Only Nico
by FantasyDweller13
Summary: A series of one-shots in alphabetical order about the one and only Nico di Angelo.
1. Angel

Angel:

It's ironic really. His last name, di Angelo, means angel. But he knows he's no angel. More likely the Devil or better yet, the devil's son. It's like a curse of fate or something. He's destined to be something, he knows, but what?

Nico di Angelo. That's his name. He'll wake up to a world where mortals don't know who he is, demigods ignore his presence, and ghosts fear his very being. He's called the boy in black, the Son of Hades, the Ghost King, but never, will he be called an Angel. Never.

He laughs. No wonder why his father preferred Bianca over him. Bianca could have been an angel. She was graceful, kind, gentle, smart, and absolutely perfect. She could light up a room with her smile and make any one feel sky-high. She was everything he'll never be.

Maybe if he was born normal. Have normal parents, normal siblings, a normal life. He could have friends and a lot of them too. He wouldn't have to worry about dying at the hands of a blood-thirsty monster or fight off evil Titan Lords. He would have everything he ever wanted. He could be an angel.

No, that wouldn't do. He may have everything he wanted if he was normal, but would it be everything he needed? Angels don't look out for themselves, they look out for others. Is he doing that if he craved only to be normal? Is he trying to help others, or himself?

He ponders this as he sits in front of the Elysium gates watching the souls in the Fields of Asphodel. Some spirits near him cautiously, like they're afraid he'll send them to the Fields of Punishment if they get to close. He is, after all, they're lord's son.

A little girl comes closer. She's about seven, and she's wearing a night gown. There's a teddy bear dangling in her hands. Her voice is innocent, childish, but so dead. She's dead. His heart breaks a little bit. "What do you want?" It's a little harsh, but he doesn't care. Doesn't want to care.

"I'm lost. I can't find my mommy."

"You're dead. You're mommy's not coming."

"I'm not dead!" The girl's so innocent. He wishes he could go back to those times.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!" she says with a pout.

He sighs. He reaches his hand out as if to slap the little girl, but he knows he'll hand will just pass through. He does it anyways.

"See?"

The girl's lips tremble as the truth comes crashing down on her. She's so young he realizes. Then she's bawling her eyes out and he can't do anything to comfort her. There's nothing he can do. After a while of just watching the girl cry, he gets up.

"Where are you going?" she whimpers.

"Somewhere," he replies.

"But don't you have to stay with me? You're my guardian angel right? Mommy always said that my guardian angel would follow me when I died. She said that my guardian angel would help me everywhere I go. You're my guardian angel right?"

He scoffs. "I'm no angel, kid."

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you?" He grudgingly admits she's persistent.

"Let's just say, you don't need to know."

"Mommy says liars go to Hell." If only you knew. If only you knew.

"And where did you're Mommy say you'll go?" he asks the child.

She looks up proudly and says in a matter of fact tone, "I'm supposed to go to Heaven."

Elysium. That's why she's trying to head to here, he realizes. But there's an invisible force keeping her away from Elysium. She's stuck in Asphodel. "How did you die, kid?"

"I don't know," she replies. "I've been sick for a while so Mommy and Daddy took me to the hospital. The doctor said I had cancer. I don't know what cancer is, but it hurts. Mommy cried, and Daddy punched the door. Then I had to go in to the hospital again, and they poked needles through me."

He feels sick. How could his dad let a little kid that died of cancer stay stuck in the Fields of Asphodel? Someone so innocent and sweet denied the privileges Elysium. It's not fair. But then again, when is anything fair?

The girl stops talking and rubs her arms as if she's feeling scars left by the needles. "But it's okay!" she says brightly. "I'm going to Heaven!"

His stomach tightens. She's not going to Heaven. She's too young to have been considered a hero, but she's persistent on going to Elysium, or Heaven. He doesn't want to break the girl's heart, but he has to. Like he said, he's no angel.

"You're not going to Heaven." His voice cracks as he says it.

The girl looks at him quizzically and says softly, "I'm not?"

He shakes his head. She's crying again, and his heart is breaking. Pretty soon they'll be nothing but pieces if his life continues like this. He turns his head, but the girl's voice stops him from moving.

"Where do I go?"

He checks his watch; he better hurry. Hades does not like it when he's late to dinner, or as he calls it, torture sessions. He sighs. "Come on kid, I'll show you."

As they wander the Fields of Asphodel, he searching for the suitable place for this child, they talk. Well, mostly the child talks and he listens, but he learns a lot from this seven year old. He learns that life is supposed to be embraced. He learns that God always forgives. He learns that everyone has faults. He learns a lot from this kid.

Finally they reach an area where it's not too crowded, and there are trees and flowers and a lake. It's like a mini Elysium. The girl's eyes widen, and she tries to grab his hand. It passes through. He follows her in to a mini cottage, maybe the size of the smallest cabin at camp.

She's jumping up and down, excitedly. Then she picks up a picture frame. In it is a picture of a family. There's the little girl holding hands with an older boy, maybe his age. Behind them is a smiling woman and man, they're hands on the children's shoulders.

He checks his watch. He's late. With a slight nod, he starts to exit the little girl's new home. He stops when the little girl says, "Nico, thanks. You got me to Heaven. You really are an angel."

He smiles slightly. He waves good bye. The little girl smiles and he's running. It's weird, he thinks.

Whether he thinks so or not, Nico di Angelo is an angel.

**Hey guys. I don't own Percy Jackson. All right's and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan. I'm really sorry if this isn't that good.**


	2. Believe

Believe:

It doesn't make much sense to believe. It doesn't. Sometimes it's really hard to do.

Nico di Angelo knows he has no parents. He pretends to think that they weren't abandoned at the Lotus Casino. He tries to believe that his parents are desperately looking for him and Bianca. He wants to believe that his parents loved him.

It's a joke to believe that. So, he turns to playing Mythomagic. The shiny foil squares fuel his curiosity of this ancient world that no one believes exist. The gods and creatures seem so unreal, they seem, well, real. He wants to believe that there is a person pulling the sun across the sky, or someone controlling the ocean's currents.

It isn't too hard to believe that the Greek gods exist in the mortal realm of Earth when their vice principal drags them away and turns into a monster like his cards, the Manticore. And when the three strangers appear wielding a sword, a dagger, a spear, and a shield, he's all to willing to believe that the world of Greek myths is real. His belief is fueled when the Hunters of Artemis intervene.

At first he's entranced by the superpowers that Percy and Thalia have. The Hunters seem like interesting girls as well. Grover being a satyr doesn't bother him at all. He's already kind of suspected it. But then the ecstasy of being a demigod (he knew they weren't normal), drops tenfold, twenty fold, hundred fold, when he learns his sister has joined the Hunters.

Now he doesn't want to believe. He feels abandoned, just like how his parents abandoned Bianca and him. When they get to camp, he ignores the pain of abandonment, and enjoys the unique surroundings. The rock wall that spews lava, the Pegasi, the sword arena, everything. He enjoys every bit.

Capture the Flag. That's an innocent game enough in the mortal realm, but here, it's full of action and violence. He loves it, except now, he's against his sister, who's always been on his side. Always, but not anymore. He ignores it for now.

Then there's a mummy walking around. It unleashes green smoke, and he can almost sense a form of deja vu. There's a quest. His heart drops when Bianca is chosen to go. He doesn't want to believe that she's going.

They leave, but he tells Percy Jackson to watch her. He's going to believe that Percy can keep her safe. There is nothing he can do for Bianca now. And he doesn't want to believe that.

While he's stuck at camp, he has nightmares. There's one where a scraggly old man receives punishment of being boiled in cheese fondue for all eternity. There's harsh judging for everyone that enters this dark, death filled realm. It's strange though. It's almost as if he belongs.

One day, though, a particular buzzing sound knocks the breath out of him. He's on his knees in the sword arena, and he's crying, yelling, screaming, anything to get the sound out of his ears. Anything. She's dead. He doesn't want to believe, but he does. She's dead and she's not coming back to him. He'll just have to wait for the questers to come back. He'll keep his hopes and tries to believe, no, will believe, Bianca's not dead. No, she's not dead, he tells himself.

It's all too real when they come back and Bianca is not with them, but instead the gray-eyed blonde girl with princess curls. Percy Jackson tells him what he already knows. She's dead, and he knew it. Always knew it. He's so angry at Percy, and the skeletons that threaten them increases it. The figurine of Hades just reminds him of the broken promises he believed would never break. He had promised. She had promised. He's never felt so abandoned.

He runs away. Along the endless maze, he meets King Minos. The evil king offers him something he can't refuse. He offers his sister's life back. A soul for a soul, simple enough. He tries to give himself up, because his life isn't worth living without Bianca. No one accepts the offer. His soul isn't worth it, the ghost says.

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase find him. They go through a few trials and tribulations, but they make it through mostly unscathed. But he doesn't like believing that Bianca only showed herself to him when Percy was around. He doesn't want to believe that it's Bianca that he's angry at, after all, he's doing all of this, just for her. Bianca doesn't want his help.

Then there is the Battle of the Labyrinth. He can feel so many people dying, but they'll die heroes. He believes that. Then he's dying, his energy fading from his body after summoning so many skeletons. Maybe it won't hurt, but he's saved.

The old inventor helps save the day. Daedalus even offers his own soul so he can bring back Bianca. He can't believe he doesn't the accept the offer. Maybe he's learned.

Or maybe he hasn't. He feels guilty when he tricks Percy Jackson to "meeting" his "father" just so he can learn about his past. But in the end, he believes he's fixed the damage, by getting Percy to bathe in the River Styx, and convincing his father to join the battle against the Titans. People even start to believe he's a hero.

That doesn't last long. Eventually Hades starts to ignore him again. He goes back to being an outcast. He can't believe that he actually believed things would get better after the Titan War.

Things are quiet for now. He spends most of his time traveling around, trying to learn a bit more about his past. The great prophecy scares him a little bit, but he ignores it. It's not like he's one of the most powerful half-bloods in the world. He believes he's not as strong, and never will be as strong, as any of the chosen.

He's so wrong. He's strong. He's part of the great prophecy. Great. Just when he believed he'll get a break. But he thinks back to previous summers.

He believed that he was just a normal orphan, but he's not. He's an extremely powerful demigod. He wanted to believe that his sister would come back. She didn't. He believes he's made amends for all his wrong-doings. He did. Sometimes the power of believing is so strong. That's how gods stay alive. Pan faded because no one believed in him.

Nico di Angelo decides, he's going to get people to believe in him, by believing in himself first. He believes this will be simple enough.

**Hey guys. Happy Halloween! Uh... well, this obviously isn't one of my best, but that's why I don't own the Percy Jackson series. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	3. Can't

Can't:

It seems that the only thing he can do is fail. He can't do anything.

Nico di Angelo isn't what you would call normal, even in demigod terms. He can't be normal. It's who he is. He can't do the normal things like read books and watch movies without a monster breathing down his back. He can't wield a celestial bronze sword because he would be sure to die in battle without his Stygian Iron one. He can't talk with his siblings or hug them when he's down. He can't do anything normal.

As he studies the world through troubled eyes, he learns and experiences new things. Exciting, dangerous, interesting things. These people, mortals in every sense of the word, can do such extraordinary things, that he feels ashamed of his godly powers. He can't do that. Nico can't kill a person without the remorse. He can't destroy an entire rainforest to build a tower. He can't openly degrade a person without feeling the guilt. He can't be anything special to these mortals eyes.

It's a sunny day. He's wandering around a small town, the kind where everyone should know each other. He nears a large building. It appears its a school. All the kids have left except for one girl sitting on a black metal bench absorbed in a book. Her backpack is next to her sitting on the bench. Then she's laughing.

"Hey, can I sit here?" She looks up, surprised, then nods. She doesn't say a word. She's back to reading her book and it's silent. Occasionally she'll laugh, then look at him and turn away.

Then, she closes the book. "Hey, are you okay?", a flash of worry slipping across her features. She's not exactly pretty he notices, but has a sort of childish innocence normally not found in a teenager his or her age.

"Yeah, I am." He turns away.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he says coldly. She looks hurt, but doesn't say anything. He feels guilty.

"When are your parents going to pick you up?" That strikes a nerve and she looks surprised when he speaks.

"My parents aren't here. I'm an orphan."

"I'm really sorry. My mom can't pick me up for a while. It's annoying that they don't have a lot of time for me, but it's nice to know that they're there."

He doesn't respond. She looks worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He laughs sardonically. "You sure are weird."

Instead of being taken aback, she laughs. It's clear and crystal, filled with joy. "I know. I try to be."

That's a shocker. "Why?"

She looks mystified on why he wouldn't know. She checks to make sure no one's there. "Well, why can't I?"

There's a car horn, and she gets up, smiles, and leaves. This is something Nico doesn't hear often. No, he doesn't hear that at all. Why would someone try so hard to be weird? Why would they purposely isolate themselves from society? It's not normal, and he can tell there's nothing extraordinary about this girl except for her unusual views.

Nico thinks about it. He ponders it and twists the idea around in his mind. He can't seem to unscramble it. It's not an unorthodox view, but it has a paradoxical sense to him. Why would someone want to be different? It's unfathomable.

He leaves for camp once nightfall comes. In the Hades cabin, he stares sullenly at the flickering flames of Greek fire set on the torches. The next day comes quickly. He goes to the sword arena and viciously attacks the dummy. He can't lose to an inanimate object. He does.

His anger left him subject to the sword poised in the dummy's hand. He would have lost in a real fight. It's unbelievable. The Ares cabin snickers at him until he glares at them with his signature Son of Hades death glare. It's silent.

He can't do anything right! While all the other campers eat lunch, he travels to a special section of the forest and performs a summoning chant. Bianca appears, her form flickering occasionally.

"Hey Nico. What's up?"

"You should know."

"Yes, but tell me little brother. You seem a little distracted."

"Bianca, why can't I be normal?" The spirit is surprised. She was sure he had gotten over the fact that he wasn't normal years ago.

"I don't know Nico. But we're special."

"I don't want to be special. I want to be normal. Or at least a normal demigod."

"What has you like this?"

"Why would someone want to be different?"

She's taken aback, and she has no answer. All her life she wanted to fit in, that's why she joined the Hunters. Nico senses she has no answer and dismisses her.

Eventually, the idea fades in his mind. He still feels like he can't do anything. It's been half a year, and he's wandering around again, trying to find answers about his past that he can't remember. He ends up in the little town again. There's the same girl sitting on a bench reading a book, but now she's in the library.

He wanders towards the section about World War Two. He might as well start with the general information. He finds that he can't read the titles and doesn't know where to start. Stupid dyslexia. He stares stumped at the titles of books lined up in neat rows.

"Are you okay?" It's the girl. "Oh, you look familiar. Have we met before?"

"Um...", Should he say yes, or lie? "Yeah, we've met."

"Really? Oh, I must have some bad memory." She laughs. "So, what do you need?"

Answers, he wants to say, but instead he says, "Books on World War Two."

"Oh, writing a research paper, or just interested in the blood and gore?"

He's a little annoyed. Just because he wears black doesn't make him goth or emo. It's just part of his nature.

"Just looking for some history." She leads him to a shelf of thick books, all about the different aspects of the war. It would take him decades to decipher all the words and find any information that would be useful. He can't do it. He's a failure.

"Do you need any help picking?"

"Nah, it's okay. I can't read half of this anyways. Dyslexia."

She looks at him sympathetically. "Ouch, that must be harsh."

"Eh, I'm used to being different. I'm kind of weird." An outcast, he adds silently.

"Huh, that's interesting. I'm guessing that you think you can't do anything but fail."

He's surprised. "How do you know?"

"You could say I was an outcast among my peers. Not exactly part of the popular crowd," she says disdainfully.

"Really? You seem like the kind of person with a lot of friends."

"Oh, I have friends. But they're all weird like me."

"What's the point of trying to be different?"

"What's the point of trying to be the same?" She counters. It makes sense as she says the words. She continues. "Just by being myself, I'm defying any obstacle the society throws at me. I can do anything in my own world."

He mulls over the words. It makes so much sense, he's surprised he hasn't come to the conclusion earlier. When he looks up, the girl's gone. As he wanders around, he decides he'll take a crack at one of the books. If he can't do it, he can always get Annabeth to help him, her being a daughter of Athena and all. He puts on one of his rare smiles.

In his world, the only thing Nico di Angelo can't do is fail.

**Okay, well I'm absolutely positive this isn't one of my best, but today, it's all about trying to get a message across. I don't own Percy Jackson. All the rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	4. Darkness

Darkness:

For some people, the darkness is suffocating. It covers them and they can't breathe. It closes in and they can't see anything. But for you, Nico di Angelo, although you hate to admit it, the darkness is part of you. It's like a warm blanket and a cup of hot cocoa on a frigid winter day. It protects you from the big bad world.

You wish that sometimes you were an Apollo kid. The light is who they are. People like them. People don't like the dark. People don't like you. There's a depressing aura that darkness possesses that lingers on you like light does to an Apollo demigod.

It doesn't matter much. The darkness is you. You are the darkness. The darkness fuels your dark powers, you melt into the shadows made up of the darkness that light casts off.

The Underworld is dark. The only light that exists is the flaming torches that glow eerily and the artificial sunlight for the souls in Elysium and the Isles of the Blessed. You spend most of your time in your room decorated by your "father". The black curtains block out any light that could penetrate the gloominess of the Underworld.

Needless to say, you don't try to spend too much time in the Underworld. But for you, there's not many places to go where the dark doesn't follow you. Your cabin at Camp Half-Blood is an almost exact replica of your bedroom in Hades' palace. You don't blame Annabeth or Percy. They all expect you to love the darkness. You try to escape, but anywhere you go, there's always a period of darkness called night.

Secretly, you love the moon and the stars even though you blame them for throwing you into this world of darkness. You love the light they cast in the endless darkness when the sun doesn't shine. But they're not always there. They'll disappear on cloudy nights. Only the darkness is your constant companion.

It follows you where ever you go. It's persistent. No matter how hard you try to lose it, it'll find you. It always does. You can't get rid of it.

But sometimes, you wonder, do you really want to lose your only companion? Do you want to lose only thing that makes you, well, you?

Subconsciously you embrace the darkness. You wear black. You hang in the shadows. Everything about you is dark, from your eyes, your hair, to your personality. It only makes sense that you are part of the darkness.

You want to scream when people shy away from the dark. They think it's evil, a menace to a peaceful land. They're wrong. Oh so wrong. The darkness isn't evil. It's not a place where evil manifests and spreads. It's such a stereotype when people look at you in disdain or fear when they see the darkness that lingers on you.

Don't be afraid, you want to call out. I'm not going to hurt you. You won't. But why should they go to the dark when the light beckons them. On the outside, the light is the good choice, the choice of Angels. The dark isn't something that is loved. But sometimes the light isn't something to be loved.

The winter solstice draws in. It's the time when darkness rules. You're the most powerful at this point in time when the days are shorter and nights seem to last forever. It's cold though. But the cold is something that often accompanies the dark. These are your constant companions. The cold and the dark. It's never a good combo, but you deal with it. You have to.

You're so tired. You lay to rest in a shady area of Central Park. You're drifting to a deep sleep, but you can't let your guard down. But your so sleepy, so sleepy...

You collapse. You haven't had the chance to rest from your last shadow travel because a horde of monsters were on your tail. No one's here to catch you and you hit your head against the thick metal arm rest on the bench, pushing you into the concrete. You don't feel anything, you're so tired. It's almost if someone had injected anesthetics into you.

It's so dark in this world of your mind. It's so dark. So so dark. Is this a dream? No, it's a nightmare you decide. You can't see anything. You're immobilized. So this is what the dark must feel like to mortals. Suffocating.

Then there's a light. A faint blue light. It grows stronger. You start running to it. You're reaching your hands out trying to grab a little bit of salvation. But then it keeps getting stronger. All of a sudden it's not a ghost light, but a warm candle glow, then then sunny rays of the sun, then you're burning in a fire of light. It hurts. It's searing you, tearing you apart. You want to go back to the dark. You need to be in the dark. You need the dark.

You jolt awake. The sun's peeking out of the trees. You can still feel the burning of the intense light. You're feeling light headed, the head wound you got from collapsing would need medical attention, but if you shadow travel, there's a chance you aren't strong enough and will die.

Hesitantly, you wobble and limp to the Jackson/Blofis apartment. Mrs. Jackson, or Mrs. Blofis wouldn't mind. She's seen you broken and beaten before. She's seen you in pain, terrible pain and you know she'll take care of you. She's the closest thing to a mother you have.

You stumble up the stairs to their apartment. The grouchy old door man won't let you use the elevator. You mumble curses under your breath in Ancient Greek as you try not to fall off the stairs in your horrible condition. As soon as you knock on their door, you're light headedness becomes unbearable and you pass out as Mrs. Jackson opens the door. You hear a, "Nico? Oh, no, Nico!" then all is silent.

You're back in the never ending darkness. It's suffocating. It's like a shroud hiding you away from the world. Then there's the light again. It's the same as the last time. It starts off comforting, but then grows until it is blinding and piercing, tearing your body apart.

It ends, but you're still in the darkness. The light appears again. It grows. The dream reoccurs as you drift in and out of consciousness. It's horrible to live on replay of something so terrible. He understands why people in the Fields of Punishment are so bitter. Sometimes you open your eyes to see a blue colored room, then pass out from exhaustion and possibly a concussion.

Finally, you're strong enough to open your eyes and stay conscious. Mrs. Jackson looks relieved as you groan and try to sit up. "Rest, you hit your head pretty hard when you fainted."

You obey her instructions and she hands you a small square of ambrosia. When you eat it, the pain in your head clears and you can breathe a little bit better. The taste of chocolate chip cookies linger in your mouth. When you look outside, it's pitch black.

You laugh a little bit when you see the fish shaped night light laying casually on the table next to the bed. Percy Jackson, Hero of Olympus, Son of Poseidon, was afraid of the dark? But the light, you notice, not like in your dream where it becomes unbearable, is kind of comforting, a warning to any hideous creatures that dare intrude.

You reach your hands out to touch it, but you hesitate. Instead, you fall back into the bed. This time, when you fall asleep, you're in a suffocating darkness. The light appears. It starts to grow, but then it... stops. The darkness isn't suffocating anymore. Now it's like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. You're stuck in between dark and light.

When you wake up, Mrs. Jackson is in the room, humming quietly to herself as she tries to fix the room. "Mrs. Jackson?"

"Yes, Nico."

"Uh... Thanks for taking care of me and all, but..."

"Demigod business?"

"Uh, kind of. I'm part of the crew that's looking for Percy." That instantly makes Mrs. Jackson's face fall. She is after all Percy's mother. You add, "Annabeth's said that she has a lead. I'm going to Camp Half-Blood to check it out." Her face automatically brightens.

You feel bad that she can't do anything because you know she wants to go find him too, but you put on a brave smile. As you start to leave, the fire escape creating a perfect shadow, she says, "Be safe Nico."

You reply, "Yeah, I'll try."

As you step into the darkness, you hold on to something you stole from Percy's room. It's the fish night light. It flickers on for a moment, and you worry that a light in the shadow realm will throw everything out of order. But it doesn't. You realize something.

For you, the darkness is a warm blanket and cup of hot cocoa on a winter's day. But you crave the light. You can't stand the unbearable pain of the light, but you want it oh so bad. There's really no solution. Maybe you don't want light, but for people to see you as one. It's so simple.

In the darkness, you are the light.

**Again, I don't think I've reached expectations on this story either. I'm really sorry. But if you guys have any questions or ideas that I could use, I would be glad to hear them. I have most of the letters chosen, but I'm still unsure of some of them. Thanks for the reviews though. It's been really encouraging. I don't own the Percy Jackson series. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	5. Evil

Evil:

Evil is a big word. Not in a literal sense, but in a way that it should not be used openly and often. Half-bloods use it to describe Kronos, the destructive, power-crazy Titan Lord. They also use it to describe the Lord of the Dead, Hades.

It isn't fair. Hades isn't evil, just misunderstood. That trait, unfortunately, passes to his only living demigod child, Nico di Angelo. People are wary of the dark Son of Hades, skirting around his presence. He's not wanted at Camp Half-Blood, just like his father is unwanted on Olympus.

When he was younger, he wouldn't mind too much of the disgusted stares he would receive from random strangers. He had his parents and Bianca. He didn't need to care about others thoughts. But as the years progressed, he lost the only comforts that protected him from the evils of the human mind.

When he lost his mother, he experienced the cruelty of a broken world. Then he and his sister were placed in the Lotus Casino. There, his father left him as well. But the amazing attractions and games in the Lotus Casino let his mind wander away from any bad thoughts.

At Westover Hall, he started to see a different world from the time-stopping, mind-captivating realm of the mythological prison. There were pretty girls with supermodel bodies and flowing hair that acted as dictators and sneered at any other person, and ugly huge kids that threatened you if you even dared look at them. Then there were the strange kids decked out all in black, and he thought he would never be like them.

As he was drawn into the world of Greek myths, of gods and monsters, he lost the final part of protection against the world of evil. Bianca was gone and now he was vulnerable.

In the Labyrinth, he meets King Minos. At first glance, Nico had an impulse to run away. But as the evil King talked about getting back his sister, about going back to being normal, he found out what the evil of temptation felt like. But temptation is a powerful evil, and he falls into it.

But as Minos talks about "justice", he can't help but wonder if what he is doing is right. He can't help but think that he shouldn't be doing this. His conscience yells at him, yells loud and angrily at the boy.

Percy Jackson finally takes him back to camp. But he knows that he doesn't belong. Camp isn't for the dark Son of Hades. He travels alone for a while, searching for answers, getting in trouble, and occasionally making trips to China.

A week before the Battle, he takes Percy to meet May Castellan, the psychotic lady that Luke has to call "mom". He's frightened incredibly, and thinks that he might have been lucky that he doesn't remember Maria di Angelo.

Then Hestia appears. He feels guilty, because he knows Hestia can peer into his soul. She knows his plans. And she's a goddess too. There's no telling what she can see in Nico.

Nico then experiences evil by his father. Hades tricked him into bringing Percy, and then imprisoning the Son of Poseidon. Even the information he wanted so badly was withheld. He curses himself. He should have known better.

When Percy tells him to stay in the Underworld, he starts to see that no one really cares for him. He's too drawn into this world of evil.

But he's **NOT** evil. He isn't, he tells himself.

As he is forced to stay in the Underworld, he looks for answers. When he tries to summon Maria di Angelo, he is hit with the day the cruelty of the world first took control. Zeus tried to murder all of them, but only his mom was killed. In anger, Hades curses the Oracle. From there, May Castellan tried to become the Oracle, but became insane, driving Luke into the Titan Lord's hands.

It all connects. From one source of evil, another is born. It's a chain affect. He understands what he must do. He has to break the chain. He has to break free of the controlling evils of the world.

Nico does that by convincing his father to join the battle. He has to. It's the only way.

His father retorts with how he is never accepted. Why should he help? Nico understands this and can't say much, but after trying so hard, he continues. Eventually, he is able to convince the master deceiver. When they join the battle, cheers from the demigod arise. Together, they fight off the evil forces of the Titan's army.

No, most of these half-bloods aren't evil. They're just fighting for what they believe in. Isn't that we're taught to do? Isn't that what we're supposed to do? They don't believe that what they're doing is evil, so they can't be evil, can't they?

As he sits by his father's feet, and watches his friends receive gifts and congratulations, he contemplates good versus evil.

People each have their own views of evil. Is he evil? Is Nico di Angelo evil?

No, he decides. He's like his father. He's like death. Although they are perceived as evil entities, they are not. They are part of the cycle of nature. If death didn't exist, the world would collapse into chaos and destruction, into overpopulation and hunger. If Hades did not govern the dead, the spirits that have passed on would wander the world in search for a host to return to life. Chaos would ensue and nothing could ever be peaceful.

In a way, Hades is the most important Olympian there. (Although Hades claims he is not an Olympian, he is.) Though most people don't pay homage to the God of the Dead, he is the most needed, the most memorable.

Hopefully, this is a trait that passes to Nico as well. Nico prays that people will see him, not as an evil demonic child, but as an actual person with feelings and emotions. He doesn't want to be seen just as the Son of Hades, the evilest god ever, but as the Son of Hades, a regular demigod.

Although it may not seem like much, Nico knows one fact. It's not a great fact full of knowledge like the key to world prosperity, or a trivial fact like how apple seeds are poisonous. It's a simple fact, just about life and him.

Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades, is like death. Death isn't evil, and neither is he. They're all just a little misunderstood.

**Hey, guys. I'm really sorry if this isn't any good. I've been busy with life and school. I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	6. Falling

Falling:

In every sense of the word, he's falling. He's going to come crashing down to the earth, and no one will be there to catch him. Metaphorically, of course. That doesn't mean he hasn't fallen before.

The first time he falls is when he was a mere toddler. It's his first steps and they're wobbly and shaky. His mom claps her hands, beckoning the little one year old to come to her. Bianca stands by the doorway watching her little brother and mother. He stands up shakily and manages three steps, then falls onto the rough carpeted ground. He's crying and his mother scoops him up in her arms and murmurs soft Italian words to soothe the sobbing child.

The second time he falls and cries, his father is teaching him how to ride a bike. The bike is in a fairly new condition, but regulatory safety conditions on bikes haven't been invented. He's six. As he wobbles around precariously, his father managing to still hold on to the seat, amazingly (he's a god though, so it shouldn't be a surprise), he grips the handlebars so tightly, they leave imprints on his palms.

The road is bumpy, rocks and pebbles littering the ground. Once he opens his eyes and loosens his hold on the bars, he feels the wind blowing around. It's amazing. Then Hades lets go and he's riding by himself. It's insane how much he's enjoying the adrenaline rush.

Then, the bike wheel hits a rock in the middle of the road. He flips over the handlebars and lands on the rough rocky concrete. There's scrapes and cuts all over his arms and a cut on his cheek. His father rushes over to the crying figure of his son sprawled unevenly on the ground. Gently, he feeds the boy a square of who-knows-what, which tastes like mommy's homemade chocolate chip cookies, and his bumps and bruises disappear quickly.

Throughout the years, he's fallen over and over. When Hades bathed them in the Lethe, he slipped again, as Alecto pulled him out, falling into the cold waters of the river. He managed to climb out, soaked and confused. Then, in the Lotus Casino, he fell down the stairs a couple of times, and would have been seriously injured if not for the protective and watchful eye of his sister.

At Westover, he makes new friends. Granted they are the rejects of the school, but they're friends. He's flying sky-high, even though he's diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia. But that doesn't last for long. Eventually, his new found friends abandon him to join some super geek club and his grades fall to dismal levels. He's been pushed back to earth.

Then when he finds out he's a demigod, he's starting to float all the way to the top again. But he comes crashing down as he realizes that Bianca has joined the Hunters, and they will never be together again. He picks himself up and is once again floating on thin air when he enters the demigod training camp, Camp Half-Blood.

The Hermes cabin is cramped, and the children are all different, except for those who belong and even they have significant differences. The blue-eyed, brunette sons of Hermes, the Stoll brothers, eagerly accept him, and even show him the ropes. He likes them, that is, till they steal some of his Mythomagic cards. He learns quickly enough to keep possessions away from the sly, devious children of the God of Thieves.

During Capture the Flag, he is pushed by the hasty advances of the children of Ares. Once he picks himself up, and brushes himself off, he runs around trying to find a good position to hide in. Quickly he clambers up a tree, thick enough to support his weight, and leafy enough to hide him. Out from a small clearing, a girl, maybe his age, dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and a silver jacket appears. A Hunter. She has a dagger sheathed in her belt, and in her hands, there is an arrow notched neatly in a bow. Her eyes flicker around the trees, searching for any enemies or traps. For a moment, her eyes rest on Nico's hiding spot. Then her gaze shifts around.

Suddenly, the branch he's hiding on collapses, and he falls to the ground, landing in a heap at the base of the tree. The girl jumps and lets the arrow fly at his body. In a split second, he moves away as the arrow lodges itself into the bark, and half foot in the trunk. Clumsily, he draws the sword he was given by the Hermes cabin and pushes his helmet up to see.

He holds his hands up in a surrender position. She doesn't relax, and an arrow is immediately sent flying at him. He dodges it by an inch, and it skims his arm. There's a volley of silver arrows flying at him each aimed with immaculate precision, and he can't deflect all of them with the heavy metallic celestial bronze sword. Some of them lodge into the dirty armor that he's wearing, and some graze his arms through his shirt and legs through his jeans. One even catches his face, blood oozing out of the cut on his right cheek.

"STOP!" Bianca's voice echoes around. By the time the girl stops, he's covered in nicks and scratches. He's bleeding and he's aching all over. Bianca runs over to him, cradling him, holding his head in her arms and murmuring soothing words in Italian like his mother used to. He's never felt so humiliated, and like a child.

When Bianca dies, he feels like he's climbed to the top of Mt. Everest, than threw himself down. He feels like he's falling down from a plane without a parachute. It hurts that much. When he runs away in to the recesses of the Labyrinth, tears streak down the face, dotting the dusty earth.

As he accepts Mino's persuasive plea of "help", he feels like he's a fallen angel. He's been thrown down from the highest of pedestals. He's fallen in to a rut. He's dug himself in a hole that never ends. He's falling.

The summoning of the Battle of the Labyrinth brings him to his knees, and he's falling so hard. He can feel his soul seeping out of the pores of his body. Then he's getting back up.

As he convinces his dad to join the battle, he starts climbing up again. He wonders what it would be like if he could never fall. If he could just keep flying higher and higher he would be in eternal bliss.

He comes to a simple conclusion. In a sense, everyone falls. Whether literally, emotionally, mentally, or in status or respect, falling hurts more than you can imagine. It's a wound that's forever etched into your mind.

But, no matter how hard you fall, the only thing you have to do is… simply, get back up.

**Hey guys. Thanks for all the reviews. It's been a great help. If you guys have any ideas for the upcoming letters, feel free to tell me. Again, this probably wasn't my best work. So sorry. I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan. **


	7. Game

Game:

Most people say "Life isn't a game." But in Nico di Angelo's world, it kind of is. He, as a lowly demigod, to the superior powers of the immortal gods, is only a pawn in the endless game of life. They won't mind if they lose the weak pawn, but they know he has potential to be something great. Only potential.

In this world, not everyone starts off at the same level. Some are born strong, destined for greatness. Most of these people are also destined for tragedy. He just happens to be one of those people. As he advances in level, he is pulled into the never ending game that Fate plays. He starts off as a pawn that can only advance one at a time, and is always targeted.

However, this game isn't as simple as chess or checkers. It isn't a simple strategy game, or a little gambling game with low stakes. It isn't a RPG or a FPS. It's not World of Warcraft, not Halo, not Wii, not a simple game just for fun. It's complicated.

Here, you can bring in pawns, annihilate cities, destroy homes, kill innocents, all with out any one finding out. Here, you can't control everything. Here, you don't know if you're the pawn, or the player.

When WWII occurred, Nico was barely a toddler. The gods saw this little boy and his sister as a threat. They were threatened, and nearly destroyed. So Fate saw it fit to take them out of the game for a little while. After Thalia and Percy were played, Thalia taken out for a while, then tossed right back in, Hades saw it fit for him to have two valuable pawns on his side.

Suddenly, the brother and sister pawns were smashed, their strength decreasing in half, when Fate decided to permanently remove the sister pawn. The lonely piece broke free of Hades control, and was now a piece open for the taking. Kronos, the Gods, anyone could take him. He was a wild card, laying out in the open in a game of serious gambling, free for grabs.

Eventually, a stronger pawn, more like a knight, was able to capture him and bring him back to the other side. But they all had to let go. He didn't belong to the Team of Camp Half-blood.

He wandered in and out. He was still open for grabs, but now he was harder to find, harder to control. Hades played the "I'm your father card," with excellent precision, and Nico fell under again as a lowly pawn against the other Olympians.

He was a powerful pawn to have as well, a valuable trading card, with 2000 attack power. He wielded a midnight black sword made of Stygian Iron. +250 attack points. But he's still weaker than the gods, or than Percy. But now the gods are wary. They see the potential this boy has of defeating them. After all, the strongest player is always the weakest one in disguise.

But Percy Jackson manages to win the game for them against the evil mastermind Kronos. All the pawns and pieces they've used are discarded and recycled, to be used for another time. Broken, the pawns need to take time to heal, fix the chips and cracks, the tears and stains. But the next game comes a little too fast for any of the demigods to see. They're immediately thrown in to a more dangerous game by Fate, with new players and opponents.

But honestly, Nico hates being played. He hates that to other people, he's nothing more than a pawn, a trade-able card, a game. He wants to be able to play himself. He wants to be like the mortals, free of worries, free of wondering ever if they will be drawn into another disastrous war that will take more players away forever. But to the immortal players, these pieces are expendable. They can just get new ones. They can make new ones. They don't care about any of the pieces.

Or do they?

Most of the gods say that they care for their children. They say that they want to help, but they can't. They say that they are always watching. Sometimes they talk to their children. He knows that Hades is one of the few gods actually capable about caring for his children, even though he doesn't try to show it.

People say that they're going to be important. They'll be so far up the ladder, that it isn't funny. But they're nothing compared to the immortal beings, right? All these heroes names are immortalized but they were just pawns in the gods twisted game of life. No, not the gods game. Something bigger. Something that even the gods are controlled by.

The Titans? No. Gaea? No. The giants? No. So who?

Fate. The three Fates, no, they don't actually control it. Fate is intangible, yet it controls every movement. It controls every second of every life. No one, not Nico, not Hades, not even Zeus, can escape it. So, in reality, this is Fate's game.

It's like the master controller. And it advances down, and down, and down. It's like in an online game. There's the creators. Then the players. Then the characters. They all have to follow the creators map. They don't have really any control.

And it's known, you can't fight Fate. You can't avoid it. _Often the road you take to avoid destiny is the one where you'll find it on_. Fate is the greatest player in this game. It's undefeated, the champion that can't lose.

Sometimes though, he realizes, you have to take the initiative. Don't follow the rules and expectations of society. If they say you won't amount to anything, prove them wrong. He can do that. If they say he's a rotten egg, or a black sheep, he'll show them all. Fate may be the greatest player, and society, a close second, but he's going to beat all of them. He'll show them all.

It won't be easy. He knows that. He's competing against countless opponents, all with a higher skill level than him. But Nico will take his time. He may start off as the underdog, but as the game processes, he's going to reach the top. He'll knock out any opponent, no matter how experienced or strong.

It's going to take time. He knows that as well. It won't be like the Lotus Casino where time just stops. It won't be like an international online chess match, where you can get back to it the next day. It's going to come by fast, then slow, then fast, then slow again. An ongoing cycle.

But Nico can handle it. Sure he's just a pawn right now, a level 16 trading card, with 2200 attack points, but he's going to be strong. No one can stop him. He decides that one day, he won't be the chess piece, but the chess player.

_You're move, Fate._

**Hey guys! Okay, so this isn't my best. I'm sorry. But while I was writing this, I was watching on Youtube, a video from Wong Fu Productions. They are hilarious (but a _little_ inappropriate- don't say I didn't warn you- plus they make the best music videos), and so is KevJumba, and David Choi (Please listen to his songs. He's amazing.), and Nigahiga. Anyways, I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	8. High School

High School:

(_An AU)_

Every kid dreads their first day of high school. Some a little bit more than others. For Nico di Angelo, there isn't much of a difference. As a young freshman introduced to the busy, crazy world of school for teenagers, it can be a little much to handle.

When he first steps onto the smooth tiles of Hero High School, located near Long Island, New York, he's engulfed in to this world of bustling teachers and rambunctious teenagers. The first person that waves him over is his cousin Percy Jackson, a junior, captain of the swim team, and part of student council. Annabeth Chase, his girlfriend, captain of math club, academic decathlon, and debate, part of student council, and pre- accepted to Harvard, Yale, and NYU, beckons him to sit with the group.

Hesitantly, he adjusts the straps on his backpack and goes to join the group. There isn't much to say. While Percy and Annabeth chat with the others, he sits uncomfortably and looks around.

There aren't too many new faces. Jason Grace, a sophomore, is sitting with his sister, smiling animatedly as if he wasn't the new kid from the rival school. Thalia looks happy, because the Hunters, a feminist archery club, normally don't let her interact as much with others outside of the "family".

He mentally cringes at the thought of the Hunters. His older sister, Bianca, joined when she first entered Hero High school, two years before him. Unfortunately, on an expedition, she died saving Percy Jackson from a falling rock. They never found her body.

Nico's father, Hades, finally found him at the orphanage, a month after Bianca died. He brought Nico to his home in New York, where his wife, Persephone, lived for half the year. He let Nico live in the house when Persephone was on vacation, or at work as a landscaper and dress designer. However, even though Hades acknowledged him as his son, Hades was never around. He never saw his father, anymore than his father saw the other members of his family.

But enough of that. He snaps out of his thoughts when the bell rings, the shrill, annoying, enough to make any person go insane, ring. He stands up, and starts to try to find his first class.

After pushing and being pushed through the crowded hallways, he finds himself at his first class. Latin. Mr. Brunner, or as the kids who knew him well, Chiron, greets all the students. His smile dies a little at the sight of Nico, but immediately brightens when Nico walks through the door.

"Hello Nico. How are you this year?"

"Fine Mr. Brunner."

"You know you can call me Chiron, Nico. I mean after that dreadful accident with..." He stops himself when he sees the fractured look in Nico's eyes.

"Nice to see you Chiron." He mumbles softly, and goes to take a seat in the back of the classroom. The class goes on with out a hitch but he really isn't all there.

He goes through each class, giving introductions, getting papers, and turning in fees and supplies, then lunch rolls around. He has B lunch. He sits by himself with the cafeteria food remaining untouched. The Stoll brothers stop by his table and tell him not to look so depressed. It's giving them a bad name.

He rolls his eyes. He sits alone for a while, just absorbing in his surroundings. The gossip of the popular table, the conversations of algorithms and proofs by the math club, the new designs being passed around by the Hephaestus club.

The bell rings, signaling them to return to class. He returns to his English class. It's a hard class because of his dyslexia. The teacher pulls him aside, five minutes before the bell rings, and tells him to get started on a book that she's assigning in a month. It's a little embarrassing that they don't have enough faith in him to finish on time with all the other kids.

All the popular kids that roam the hallways give him disgusted looks as he walks by, laughing at his black clothes. Some of the Hunters look at him with a mix of disgust and pity. They knew Bianca, but he's a boy. He wants to yell at them and start a fight, but apparently, the last kid who started a fight was expelled automatically, by the grouchy principal, Mr. Dionysus, or Mr. D, as all the students call him.

Finally, the final bell rings, telling all the people in the building that school's over. The kids bust out and rush to their cars. He strolls casually to his bus, and sits on the nearest empty seat. He looks out of the tinted windows, and he sees Annabeth and Percy laughing as they walk to the car that Percy borrowed from his step-father. He sees Thalia and Jason arguing over who should drive. Thalia, he knows, has a fear of driving and heights, when her mother had nearly drove off a cliff when she was little.

The bus rolls to his stop. When he gets to the door of the mini mansion that he is supposed to call home, he makes a quick turn and comes to a small room in the backyard. Here, he flings open the door and throws his black backpack on to the messily made bed. The computer on his desk flashes its screen saver over and over.

Since he has no homework, he decides to go to the cemetery where Bianca is buried. He brings his phone, battered from years of use. As he nears the cemetery, his phone buzzes, signaling a text. It's from Percy.

_Hey, where r u?_

_Cemetery. Y?_

_Again? There's a huge party 2night. _

_And...?_

_Well, you're going right?_

_What makes u think that?_

_Nico..._

_I know, I know._

_So, you're going._

_No Percy. I'm not._

_Y?_

_School?_

_Dude..._

_Yes?_

_You're in HIGH SCHOOL!_

_And...?_

_Relax a little. _

_I'm good. Bye Percy._

_But... _

_Bye._

His phone buzzes again, but he ignores it as he makes his way to Bianca's headstone.

"Hey Bianca."

_Hey Nico. _He imagines her talking to him.

"Well, today was my first day of high school. It was so weird. Was it like that for you? Of course not. You had the Hunters to join. It was insane though."

He takes a breath, listens to the whispering wind, then starts again. "I saw Percy, Bianca. He's doing fine. Annabeth is doing fine too. I mean after what happened on the expedition, they were pretty shaken. I also saw Thalia. She joined the Hunters after you died. They even found her long lost brother on one of their expeditions. His name is Jason."

"I really wish you were here. You would like living with dad. I mean, that's all he ever talks about when I'm with him. You. Even Persephone hates me. One time, she tried to grow an infestation of dandelions in my shack outside. Dad had to get her to remove the weeds."

"School's hard too. You could have helped me with all the homework I'm gonna get. My English teacher gave me the book a month early because she thought I would have trouble reading. I feel so stupid. It's not like I wanted to be born with dyslexia and ADHD. You had that, yet you excelled. Why can't my luck be as good as yours?"

He laughs sardonically. "Why couldn't I be as lucky as you? Yeah, why couldn't I die and leave you alone? Why can't I be known as a hero?"

_You know I didn't mean to leave you. _The voice that he puts as Bianca's drifts through his head.

"Well, it's too late to turn back. And I can't commit suicide because Percy has me on watch. Well, Bianca, I hope you're doing well. Please, if you can hear me now, help me. I can't do this by myself. I can't make it through high school by myself. Please, Bianca, I can't do this by myself."

"But you're not by yourself, Nico. And yeah, I have you on watch about the suicide thing." Percy's voice says over his shoulder, the owner's hands stuck in his pockets of his jacket.

"What do you want Percy?"

"I'm here to pick you up for the party." His voice, a little too cheerily for Nico's liking says.

"Percy, I told you I'm not going to the party."

"Please?"

"Percy..."

"Please?"

"No, Percy."

"Please?"

"Percy!"

"Please?"

"Fine. Where is it at?"

"My place. It won't be too huge. Just the group."

"Fine. I'll go. You're taking me."

"Wow, I had no idea."

They walk to the car. Percy drives them to his apartment. Annabeth, Thalia, Jason, the Stoll brothers, Grover, Juniper, Beckonderf, Silena, Luke, everyone is there. They greet Percy with a hug and handshake, and nod at Nico.

Mrs. Blofis gives them food and drinks (yes, she actually made blue Kool-aid). They play a movie, then go into an intense game of Xbox 360. All the girls talk on the couch, as the boys huddle around the game controllers. They're in a middle of a game.

Nico's phone rings. "Hey guys, I gotta go."

"Kay, bye Nico," they say, forgetting that he can't drive. Nico walks out of the door, after waving good bye to Mrs. Blofis. He trudges through the cold streets of Manhattan, still maybe two miles away from home, with no money for the bus. He nears the remnants of an old house, and decides to take a short cut. As he passes through the alley, he hears the hoarse whispering of an old man, rumored to have lived and died in the house. Nico scurries faster through the darkened alleyway, as the whispering becomes a strange shriek of laughter and a warm laugh that he swears says "Ahh, high school boy. I remember those times."

Once he gets home, he plops himself on to his bed, the black sheets billowing up, then settling down.

In the small hole above his bed that he covered in glass to act as a skylight because he liked having something to look up through, but not get pelted by precipitation, he spots the stars twinkling merrily.

_Star so bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might... _How does it go? He scoffs, laughing at the silly notion that a star could grant him any wish. _I really wish though, that I'll get through high school. Is that so hard to do?_

You have no idea. It's funny how abnormal a normal person's life can get in high school.

**Hey guys. This isn't any good, I'm sorry. But I am interested in things that happen in other high schools. My high school that I (will) attend(ed) isn't very stereotypical, so I would like to hear stories about others. Anyways, I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	9. Isles

Isles:

To get to the Isles of the Blessed, you must be reborn three times, and each of your lives, be a hero. Many try to achieve this heavenly state, but many fail, and only achieve Elysium. Nico di Angelo, however isn't one of those people. This is his three lives and what he did to be a hero.

_Life 1: Nico di Angelo_

His life isn't the type of life people dream about. Sure he has super powers, and all that fancy jazz, but he hates it more than anything. Sometimes, he can't help but feel jealous of the other children, the ones with caring parents, living and loving siblings, and such innocent naivety. He doesn't want to worry about monsters, or if he'll live to see the next day. He doesn't want to worry about pleasing his father, Hades.

He never really knew his mother either. He has short synapses of memories, but they are blurred, broken, and confusing. All he knows is that his mother's name was Maria di Angelo, an Italian woman that caught the eye of Hades and had two children, a shocking feat, with him.

There are things he'll never say. However, under his cold exterior, there's a young boy craving for some love and attention. Before Bianca died, he didn't have to worry about knowing that others wouldn't mind if a monster killed him. As time progressed, this fear slowly became an annoying peeve that followed him around, that could never be killed. Until he finally learned Percy and Annabeth did care about the lonely Son of Hades, he stayed away from the world, hidden in the shadows of the Labyrinth, being manipulated by revengeful ghosts.

He's always wanted to be a hero. He secretly admires the ancient Greek heroes, the ones that have accomplished more than anyone else, the ones that have the worst luck, yet have the names immortalized. But he's just Nico. He isn't exactly what most people would consider as hero material. A son of Hades is never a hero. Never. But, "_A hero is a normal person that stays braver for five more seconds._" It isn't too hard, is it?

The day he became a hero to the eyes of others was the day he convinced his father to join the battle against the Titans. It took nearly every ounce of courage to go against his father's stubborn nature and godly powers. Against all odds, he never thought he would be able to accomplish this. He would probably end up dead on the street if he pushed his father too far. But it was worth the near death, when he arose with dozens of skeletal warriors and the demigods roared and cheered with relief and approval.

The day he became a hero to the eyes of his father was the day he did everything in his power to save Perseus Jackson. His father had sired many demigods, but none, through his eyes, had shown the type of care and compassion that Nico showed. Nico was... different. Although he complained that Bianca would be a better demigod, Nico took this silently, and always managed to surprise him with improvements, or something unusual for the characteristics of a son of Hades. His other children were cold and cruel, death their only true companion. Young Adolf went insane trying to master death, to be its owner, and he became one of the most hated men in history. But Nico on the other hand went against all of his father's wishes and threats to save a Son of Poseidon, to save a... friend.

The day he became a hero to the eyes of the Olympians was the day when most of the other demigods reached Elysium. Under every circumstance, he should not have been one of the seven strongest half bloods to save the world. He should have been left at Camp Half-Blood, keeping watch over the camp and any stray or new campers. Immediately he was sent to the front lines, being the son of Hades, or Pluto. Within the first few seconds of the most dangerous battle of any of their lives, he had saved a young daughter of Ceres. Throughout the battle, he saved countless lives, of both Roman and Greek lineage, never putting himself first, standing in the way of the line of fire.

The day he became a hero to the heroes existing in Elysium was the day he finally broke down sobbing near the gates, listening to the tales of woe and agony, but also of amazing glory and glorious triumph. When he stood shakily back to his feet, a fierce determination, in his once cold and bitter eyes, shone brightly, illuminating the dark eyes, sparks of promise floating through the pain filled eyes of the Son of Hades. There, the ghosts decided he would be a hero worthy of Elysium. He was one of them. He was meant to be a hero. He was a hero.

The day he became a hero to himself, and this is always that most important, was the day he let go of his grudge against Percy. Secretly, he had held the grudge past the Battle of Manhattan, even past the war against the Giants. When he finally let go was when he had to choose between being killed by new opponents, smarter and stronger than anything he, or anyone's fought before, or killing Percy, the Achilles heel known and revealed, Percy defenseless.

The ghostly whispers of a thousand tormented souls surrounded him as he stared at Percy. The Hero of Olympus never looked so vulnerable. His sword felt heavy in his hand, the Stygian Iron glowing a sinister light, as if it was able to read his mind, and know, know what he was thinking. The evil souls that possessed the living figures of demigods were powerful, and intelligent, for the dead has insight to almost everything. You could not kill them for their hosts were well-trained, and many were friends, that underneath, could still be saved, for many were unwillingly taken. It was a battle against loyalty and friendship, against reason and instinct.

Perseus Jackson stood chained to a rock, the small of his back exposed. The malicious ghosts been able to penetrate the camp borders until Nico was able to tag one with a magic device that could then be used to program the borders to not allow the ghosts inside. However, during this period of weakness, they had taken possession of many demigods, including many new campers. Although it took longer, they managed to possess Annabeth and claimed her every thought, all her knowledge, all her secrets. They knew his Achilles heel now, and his fatal flaw so when he came to try and rescue the captured demigods, he was easily beaten and chained to the wall. His invincibility prevented any of them to take possession of the demigod, for they needed to be able to enter through a wound that had spilled blood.

They evil ghosts whispered to him, _Stab him. Stab him Son of Hades. Stab him. _They needed him for he was one of the only demigods to possess a Stygian Iron weapon. Sure they could take control of his body, but they couldn't wield a blade made of Stygian Iron for the blade absorbed the stray souls left to wander, sending them to the Underworld of the pits of Tartarus. Once the blade went through the Achilles Spot, a ghost could use the blade to slide up the blade of death and in to Percy's body, gaining control of one of the strongest demigods ever without having to kill him.

_Stab him. He can not be trusted. You already know that Son of Hades. Your sister is among the dead. He killed her. He left her to die. He broke his promise. He killed Bianca. Stab him Nico. Stab him. Stab him._

The haunting notion that they were right echoed in his mind, bouncing off old grudges and anger. Percy had let Bianca die. She didn't need to defend him. It was his fault. Not Bianca's. Not Bianca's, but Percy's. Always Percy's. He wanted Percy to feel the hurt he felt when Bianca died. He had promised. He had promised.

Then a nagging sensation nipping at the back of his head popped up, saying no, no, no. Don't listen. Don't be fooled. Don't listen. Don't. A voice spoke softly, a quiet voice that sounded so warm and familiar. His heart ached as he heard it. _Bianca?_

_Yes little brother, it's me. Listen to me._

He listened to every word she said. Every hidden meaning, every honest truth. He truly listened as she spoke, finally understanding everything he had been trying to learn in the past years. That was when he finally became a hero. He took a deep breath, and cleared his mind. All his grudges against Percy disappeared. All the hate and anger, pain and suffering, faded from his thoughts. He straightened his back and lunged with impeccable preciseness at the small of Percy's back.

The head ghost stood expectantly next to Percy preparing to enter his body, pleased that they had managed to trick the son of the master deceiver, when Nico shifted and pushed his sword through the ghost, his sword absorbing the essence and sending the ghost to the pits of Tartarus. The surrounding demigods possessed by other ghosts surrounded him, their weapons and shields prepared for battle. One quick slash or stab that hits its mark would mean possession of a Son of Hades. Then the loss of Perseus Jackson wouldn't be as grand, for they already claimed the children of Zeus/Jupiter.

He almost died that day. He never felt so close to death. Then Percy came to the rescue and he was saved. But in the end, as he lay on the ground breathing heavily, small appendage wounds and over use of powers, he thought, he knew, he was a hero. He had saved an entire legion of demigods. After lengthy exorcism rituals, he managed to save the captured demigods. He was a hero, to others, to his father, to his friends, to the gods, to the other heroes, and to himself. Nico di Angelo is a hero.

_Life 2: Nicholas LaGadi_

Nick kicked the ground as he waited for his mother to pick him up. His mother, Bella LaGadi was a teenage mother by accident. Nick was a demigod. Not a very powerful one at that, a son of Erebus, but an excellent sword fighter.

He wasn't special like any of the other campers, such as Andrew, son of Hades, or Eric, son of Poseidon. He was just Nick, the boy who wore all black and hid in the shadows. Chiron was like a father to him, more than his father was. However, the way Chiron's eyes furrowed when ever he saw Nick worried him. Was he really not good enough?

One day, as he was sneaking into Chiron's office, he spotted an old picture of a black-haired boy with dark eyes, but a playful smile. The boy was maybe 16, a little older than him, and looked nearly identical with him. Except for the fact that Nick's hair wasn't messed up and dirty, and he didn't possess a sad look in his eyes like he's seen too much. Underneath the picture, there was a note that said _Nico di Angelo, Son of Hades._ He scoffed. Just another super powerful demigod that gets more attention.

When Nick turned 16, he took his driver's test. While he was studying the road, he saw a dark blob spill out of the shadows and crumple to the ground. His powers told him it was a demigod, lying in the darkness. Momentarily distracted, he started to accelerate. The instructor started to panic and he fainted, his bald head lolling sideways against his arm. Nick parked the car quickly and ran to the demigod in the shadows.

It was Andrew. He tried to shake Andrew awake, but he was out cold. There was some blood and a series of cuts that looked like claws. The outside was a slight green, signaling that it was poisoned. Fishing the small emergency ambrosia out of his pocket, he fed Andrew, watching to make sure his breathing and heart rate stayed normal. Andrew would need to be taken to camp.

Holding his breath, he pulled Andrew through the shadows, a power that he was blessed with, for a normal Son of Erebus could not shadow travel. They landed in front of the camp borders. Three girls rushed to them, each grabbing Andrew's arms and supporting him while at the same time pushing Nick away. "Well, thanks," he muttered, trudging slowly to a shadow maker in his cabin. His only sibling, Jack, was out training. No one knew he could shadow travel, and he kept it a secret. Hopping through the shadows, he found himself in the test car, the instructor still passed out.

He waited until the instructor finally came around, then promptly failed Nick. Angrily, he walked back to the small apartment that he and his mother lived in. Flicking on the television, a shimmering mist appeared in front of him, and Chiron's face appeared, looking apprehensive.

"Nick, Andrew was attacked today."

"I know Chiron. I brought him to Camp Half-Blood."

"Not only he was attacked though. Jack was a victim too. So was Alex, Corbin, and Tobias." _Nyx and Thanatos demigods?_

"And...?"

"They all had the same wound, a claw scratch laced with poison. We think they're after you next."

"Why me? I mean I understand Andrew, but Jack, Alex, Corbin, and Tobias? It doesn't make any sense. We're just minor demigods."

"Yes, but you are all part of the gods of the Underworld, and the darkness. We think they're trying to kill you because of some plot greater than our understanding."

"Well, are Jack and the others okay?"

"Yes, we found them and safely placed them in the infirmary. They'll make full recoveries, and we've altered the Mist around them enough so that whoever attacked them will believe they're dead. However, they seem to be in a comatose state. Just be careful Nico, uh, -las."

"Yes sir." The IM ended and it was silent except for the over exaggerated acting on the TV. Suddenly, all the lights went out. Everything shut down in a total power surge. He was surrounded by darkness. Suddenly, he heard swishing and hissing. Using his powers, he spotted a dracenae and a shadow like entity. There was more fast moving sounds, and he noticed two creatures, with bat wings, like old hags. He had seen them before when he visited his father; Keres, spirits of disease and pestilence.

"Melinoe." He whispered.

"Hello little demigod. I understand that you're a son of dear Erebus. Now, is that right?" She said, trying to be charming, but her appearance ruined the effect. He nodded slightly, cursing silently as he slowly reached for his Stygian sword.

"Now I wouldn't pull that nasty thing out Nicholas. Why don't I explain what I'm doing here," she said as she fiddled with her shawl. "As you know, I have been stuck in the Underworld for far too long. Of course nasty old Hades has it in for me since I tried to take control of the Underworld. He's sent Erebus, Nyx, and Thanatos to keep an eye out for little ol' me. So now I'm going to take something they love. They're children."

"Why would you do that? It's evil."

"I never said I was good. Besides, I want my freedom. I would kill you myself, but I am limited by the ancient laws, so Keres, feel free to attack. He can not escape like the Son of Hades did."

"You. You were the one that attacked Andrew and Jack. And all the others. They haven't woken up. What have you done with them?"

"Just a little bit of ghostly magic." Melinoe waved her hands as five ghosts appeared, they're eyes under a dull trance. He recognized them. "I will give them back after your parents consent to my will of course."

"You're a monster. Give them back now, or I will kill you myself."

"Foolish, insolent mortal, you can not kill me. I am not even completely here. My physical soul and body is trapped in the Underworld, under guard of your parents. You can not destroy me. You have no power son of Erebus. You're just a little minor demigod."

Anger boiled inside of Nick and he flicked out his Stygian sword. He had found it along the side of the River Styx, and his father picked it up and gave it to him to use. He cherished the sword because his father didn't show too much care for him. Now, he was going to make his father proud.

"Well then, I guess you're right milady. I can not kill you, for you are an almighty god." Melinoe smirked triumphantly at this. "BUT, I can send your essence to the pits of Tartarus." The smirk slipped off her place as she realized he did not lie. "And I will, unless you return the souls to their rightful owners. Now."

"Attack the boy and bring me his soul. He shall die tonight," ordered Melinoe to her three minions. The dracanae advanced, brandishing the classic trident and weighted net. Easily, he found a chink in its armor and it dissolved into dust, the essence being absorbed by the sword. The Keres flew quickly around him, and even trained as he was, they were too quick. Simultaneously, they leaped down, they're claws aiming for his chest and back. The only way out was to shadow travel.

He slid into the shadows seconds before the first claw could make contact. He appeared behind one of the Keres and stabbed it in the back. It flew and screamed, then dissolved. He landed on his feet, dust falling down like snow.

"I did not know you could travel the shadows young demigod. I believed it was only the attributes of a Son of Hades."

He slashed openly at the last Kere, and made contact with its wing. It spiraled down, awkward arches as it tried to regain altitude. With one thrust the tip of the blade pierced through the body and dust spilled to the ground.

Turning to Melinoe, he said, "I am Nicholas LaGadi, Son of Erebus. Today Melinoe, is the day you are sent to Tartarus."

"Foolish demigod. You can not beat a goddess. I am too powerful."

A long rapier appeared in her hand, a black sword of iron and celestial bronze. In seconds she had her sword tip pointed at his heart. He melted in to the shadows, the whistling of the blade about to pierce his heart cut short.

"You can not escape my little demigod. I know where you're at."

She scanned the room, then launched her sword with deadly accuracy where he was hidden. In split seconds, taking the quick advantage of her momentarily not having a weapon, or a shield, he appeared behind her and stabbed as quickly as he could. The sword point cut through her shawl and made a small cut in her skin, not enough to kill or even wound.

He ducked as the sword spun over his head, then parried the blow to his stomach. She was powerful. With a kick in the stomach, he was knocked down, her foot resting against his chest. Breathing heavily, he watched in terror as the sword in her hand started to come down with severe speed, heading straight for vital organs. He had exhausted his energy, but mustering enough courage and energy, he brought his sword up and blocked the stab with a move meant for attacking, and with faster than lightning reflexes, his swipe made a clean slash through Melinoe's body. As she dissolved in to the pits of Tartarus, he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. He watched as the ghosts of his friends and brother drifted towards Camp Half-Blood, to be returned to their owners.

As he lay on the ground, slowly dying from blood loss and over exertion, he relaxed. Even if he didn't live, he had done something no other demigod could say they did. He had beaten Melinoe, the goddess of ghosts, and saved his friends and brothers. Today, he became a hero. Today, he became someone his father could be proud of. Nicholas, or Nick, LaGadi, is a hero, enough said.

_Life 3: Conner Angels_

A boy stood in front of a grave, the wind whistling in and out. The stone stood straight and tall, like a soldier on guard, protecting the dead. "I'm sorry Bethany. It's all my fault. I should have gone with Thomas instead of you. I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

The headstone held the name Bethany Andrews, a young girl that died at the too young age of twelve in a drunk driving accident. Her older brother Thomas was driving when a drunk driver crashed into the side of the car Bethany was sitting in. She was killed almost instantaneously. Both drivers came out with a few cuts and minor scrapes, Thomas with a first-degree burn and a broken arm.

Conner was at home, studying for his biology test. He was a smart student with a knack for good intuition and instinct, but also an athletic stature and handsome features. The second the car contacted with the other vehicle, he had felt a jolt run through him. He ignored it and continued to study the theory of evolution.

Moments later, he received a phone call from his father telling him that they were at the hospital because Thomas and Bethany had gotten in to a car crash. He said that they would come home as soon as Bethany and Thomas were out of critical condition. They didn't come home until the weekend, three days after the fatal crash.

Conner ran to them, anxious and worried about his brother and sister. The haggard look on his parents face confirmed his worst fears. They were dead. Dead.

They broke the news. How Thomas made it out barely alive, but how Bethany lost the battle to stay alive. She was gone. His only sister, his little sweet sister, gone. Gone. At this he broke down sobbing, for he loved his sister more than anything in the world, more than anything.

When he visited Thomas, he can't help feel resentful that he lived. He may love his older brother, but his sister was his favorite. He puts on a fake smile, one that if you didn't look close enough, it could mask the pain in his black eyes.

Thomas's sea-green eyes study his as his hand cradles his broken arm. The tips of his black hair is charred. Days later he is out of the hospital, his left arm in a cast, and bandages wrapped around his wounds.

That day, Conner changed. He started wearing all black, his eyes filled with sadness. His friends started avoiding him and he hung out in the shadows. That day also was the day he began to see things. He saw wicked monsters and horrible ghouls. Once, he even saw a set of teenagers battling what looked like a dragon. He kept this a secret. He had stopped seeing these creatures after Bethany was old enough to talk.

Finally he left. He visited Bethany weekly, if not everyday. He came so often, he knew the groundskeeper by his first name, and vice versa. As he exited the cemetery and walked past the small high school, he held his face down.

"Hey Angels!" a voice called, but he kept walking. "Yo, Angels! Don't walk away you little prissy coward."

"What do you want Rudder?"

"Aww, is little Angels sad of his little accident?" the bully, Richard Rudder taunted. He was a popular jock that didn't understand what Conner was going through.

"You don't understand." Conner growled through his teeth.

"Yeah, I don't understand how it feels to kill my own annoying bratty snitch sister." This broke Conner, and he lunged at Rudder. He punched him in the nose and grinned, satisfied at the sound of the crack and the gush of blood.

"You shouldn't have done that Angels." He said, his eyes narrowed, but his voice muffled from his broken nose.

Saying nothing, Conner turned and walked away, his hands in his pockets.

When he got home, his mother and father were gone at work. Thomas sat at the table doing homework, his cast and scars gone. He looked up momentarily and the first thing he noticed was Conner's bloody hands.

"What did you do now?"

"He was making fun of Bethany."

"So you punched him."

"Pretty much."

"Don't you have homework?" Thomas sighed.

"No." Thomas said nothing as he watched Conner flop on the couch and flick on the TV.

Then, in a flash, Conner was on the floor, screaming, his hands holding his head, crying. Alarmed, Thomas ran to his younger brother and held the fourteen year old down as he thrashed and yelled obscenities and curses, some in a language he never heard of.

He stared sadly at the boy as the attack finally subsided. Ever since Conner was little, he would go under these attacks where he would scream and grab his head as if he was undergoing a massive migraine. He would whimper in a foreign language, a mix of English and what appeared to be Ancient Greek. For as long as Thomas remembered, he would hold Conner down until the attacks subsided, then Conner would have a frightened look in his eyes, then a day later, not remember having the attack.

Conner had stopped having these attacks when he was four, about the time Bethany learned to talk thoroughly. But after Bethany died, he started to have them again, more and more often. Sometimes he would start yelling things about death, darkness, pain.

Finally, he stopped thrashing, Conner's heavy breathing filling the silent atmosphere. In a whisper, Conner said, "This is my last chance."

"What?" Thomas questioned. The younger boy turned his dark gaze to his brother, the shadows masking his eyes. He didn't say a word as he slowly picked himself up and walked outside. Thomas returned back to his homework, slightly guilty that he couldn't be there for Conner.

Conner Angels kicked the ground, as he strolled down the sidewalk. His black hair whipped across his face as the wind blew around. Then he heard a scream, a high-pitched one. He ran around the corner to his see a girl maybe a year older than him battling a monster that looked like a mix of a lion, snake, and Pokemon.

The girl had choppy black hair and electric blue eyes. She was tall and lithe, with Mediterranean features. A silver circlet rested on her head. She battled the creature with amazing accuracy using only a bow and arrow and two silver hunting knives. Suddenly, the beast managed to knock one of her hunting knife's to the ground, where it landed at Conner's feet. Without looking, the girl flipped in the air and landed behind the monster. Her bow was loaded, but she didn't see the flaw in her strategy.

Conner picked up the knife and ran and stabbed the beast before it could use its tail to stab the girl through her chest. It dissolved into a pile of dust.

The girl behind him stalked up to him angrily and whipped him around, surprisingly strong. Her angry face quickly turned into a look of shock and disbelief.

"Nico?" She whispered, her eyes shining with tears. "Is that you?"

"What are you talking about, crazy. I'm not this Nico kid. Who the heck are you?" He retorted, brushing off the girl's hands from his shoulders.

Surprised, the girl straightened and replied with authority, "I am Thalia. And you?"

"I am Conner Angels. Nice to meet you Thalia, but as it is, I must go."

"Where to Ni- I mean Conner?"

"None of your business."

"You saved my life. I owe you. And..." She trailed off as Conner gripped his head and started screaming. She got nearer but he retreated. "What's wrong?" No answer. "What's wrong?" she said louder. Grabbing the boy's shoulders, she held him down, while he yelled obscenities at her.

Finally he stopped screaming, and his shuddering slowed. He looked up, lowering his arms. Without a word, he broke out of her grip a ran away.

He didn't see Thalia Grace until two years later, during the summer, a little after he turned sixteen. He was visiting Bethany's grave. He heard a sound in the forest behind the graveyard. He found his way into the small clearing, noticing silver tents, and rows of silver bows. Within seconds, several arrows were aimed at him by a horde of girls decked in silver camouflage. He held his hands in surrender, looking alarmed. Thalia appeared out of a tent, with a young twelve year old girl with auburn hair.

"Ni- Conner?"

"Thal-" Suddenly he fell to the ground, screaming and shuddering.

"What's wrong with him?" One of the girls asked as they stared at the boy on the floor, holding his head, crying. They managed to drag the boy onto a cot, as he cursed and kicked. Artemis stared at the boy watching his thoughts, and then she understood.

The Hunters filed out of the tent when the attack ended, and Conner's heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard. Artemis stood in front of the boy, watching as his frightened eyes changed to a dull brownish color, then darkened to a fierce black that was filled with sorrow.

"Where am I?"

"You are in the camp of the Hunter's of Artemis. You are lucky you are alive Conner Angels."

"How do you know who I am?"

"That is for me to know, not you. Now I understand you have a sister."

"Had." He sadly corrected her.

"Yes, I remember Bianca well."

"Bianca?" Caught off guard, Artemis turned away. In the distance, a horn was heard, signaling a monster. Two girls ran through the thick forested area, covered in cuts and scratches, bleeding everywhere. They collapsed in front of Artemis, as one girl with red hair whispered, "Monster."

Then everything collapsed in chaos. A giant dog, maybe the size of a RV, bust through, its eyes glowing red, its mouth foaming. "What is that?"

"Hellhound. But I've never seen one so large."

All the girls grabbed their bow and shot silver arrows at the beast. Many connected, but it wasn't enough to kill it. It writhed and thrashed, howling loud enough to wake the dead. Artemis ran out and gathered the fallen girls, trying to heal everyone of them. Thalia stood in front of the hellhound, a sword poised in her hand. The fiery red eyes turned toward her, and charged.

Conner ran and pushed Thalia out of the way. The mutt hit him and he flew fifteen yards away. His head hit the tree and he felt a concussion coming along. Shakily, he stood up and dragged a small girl's body away from the rampaging monster, taking her sword.

The monster turned to him and charged. As he waited for death, he could almost make out the thoughts of the monster. _I'm sorry master. This is for your own good. _Thalia ran to him, but she was too late, and he was sent flying into a headstone near the edge of the forest, but not before he made a clean arch through the monster, killing it.

Dazed, his breathing slowed down, and his heart started straining. Thalia ran to him, holding his head as he started to take his final breaths. "You have to save him!" She yelled at Artemis. Almost with a hint of distaste, she nodded, and worked her magic. His breathing became even and color returned to his skin. His eyes didn't open, but Thalia knew that the boy in front of her was going to live.

When he opened his eyes, Thomas is standing over him, and he's on his own bed. Feeling the black sheets, he sat up. "What happened?"

"I found you all beaten up on the side of the street. I was so afraid you were dead. I couldn't lose another of my siblings. Especially not you."

"Thanks then."

"Here, take some Advil or Tylenol, then get some rest. You are really injured."

As Conner lay down, a silver note caught his eye. In neat letters, he read something and smiled.

_Dear Conner, _

_You're a good guy, and I want to thank you for saving me and the other Hunters. In every sense of the word, you're a hero._

_-Thalia, Daughter of Zeus, First Lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis_

The spelling was a little off, but he smiled. Conner Angels was a hero.

_Isles of the Blest: A True Hero_

A soul of a boy clothed in black with black hair and dark eyes stood in front of the golden gates of Elysium. He smiled, then continued walking across the black fields, to the Isles of the Blessed. There he was greeted, as a hero. He wasn't just Nico di Angelo, Nicholas LaGadi, or Conner Angels. He was a true hero.

It doesn't matter how many lives he has to go through, just that he got here. He was here, in the Isles.

**Okay, this definitely isn't very good, and it's quite long and rambling, but I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry for the inconveniences if it was too long, not good, or too late to come out. Life catches up to you sometimes. Again, really sorry for the bad story. I'll try to make it up to y'all.**

**Let me go into a little detail, quickly. All these scenarios are made up, and I don't know what happens in the future. Just think of it as an AU. In Conner's life, he is two years older than Bethany, and two years younger than Thomas. Nicholas is an only child. Yes, I know Percy would die if stabbed in his Achilles Spot, but again, imagining. **

**Shout-out: For anyone who wants to use this idea for a story, feel free too. (Annabeth Supporter.) As long as you don't copy my ideas, it'll be fine.**

**Trivia: Can you figure out who the reincarnations of certain people are? Hint: There are two reincarnations of Bianca, and one of Percy. **

**I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	10. Juxtaposition

Juxtaposition:

When the sun starts to rise, but the moon **H**asn't disappeared yet is when Nico starts to fully understand who he his. In any normal situation, people don't see the sun and the moon sharing the skies, acting, not as adversaries, but companions. The immortal deities that control them, Apollo and Artemis, the twin archers, have opposite personalities, that in every sense, shouldn't work together, but just like brother and sister, they complete each other.

Nico's... special, you could say. He isn't wh**A**t you would call normal. He isn't the type of kid that people would go up to and hug. He was... unique in every sense of the word.

He was a mixture of two things, total opposites that shouldn't exist side by side. He was one thing, and the other. He was on both ends of the spectrum. He was a mixture of everything. He could be as helpful or as dangerous as Medea's **P**otions.

_Life and Death_-

It's not that hard to say that these things are pretty much impossible to put together. You can't have life, if you have death, and vice versa. There aren't any exceptions. Except, maybe one. He's breaking all the rules of life and death just by living. Life and Death don't mix, they don't. Yet, here he is, a living, breathing example of the clashing worlds. **P**erhaps, the universe was wrong.

Nico isn't stupid. He knows he's tempting Fate by existing. He knows that this fact will get him in major trouble, and will leave him an outcast. **Y**et he doesn't mind. By being an embodiment of life and death mixing, none dominating, but residing side by side in harmony gives him access to different worlds that no one on the other side can access. Ghosts can't enter the mortal world, and mortals can't enter the Underworld easily welcomed when they're not dead. Just ask Percy Jackson.

But, on the outside, where life and death reign an endless battle, without knowing it, they both secretly guide and **H**elp each other. When there is life, there must be death. Death comes along, but with it, new life. It's a never ending cycle, never broken, never reversed, always moving. And that's how the two worlds live peacefully in him. When a part of him dies, another comes alive. When a part of him is born, eventually it will die, like his cold, bitter anger to Percy.

_Light and Dark_-

White and black, when they clash, it becomes a dull gray, a boring, hidden color, that isn't prominent among it's relatives of neutral colors. However, he's not gray. He's both light and dark. His dark eyes, like bottomless pits, match his shaggy black hair, and always black clothes. His personality certainly follows suit. But his olive colored skin, turned to a pale- white c**O**lor, contrasts greatly, and underneath his cold, dark exterior, is a boy as pure as an uncorrupted angel, shimmering in white.

The first thing people notice about Nico is his dark eyes, glaring angrily at the world, empty, lifeless, haunting eyes. The second thing they see is his pale skin, as if he's never seen the sun. It's as if he's been living underground for most of his **L**ife, (if only they knew). Next, their mind registers the black clothes, often covered in dust and grime. Often, people don't get past the physical appearance. There is when most people shy away from the dark Son of Hades, but the few that do get deep enough to understand, manage to connect with Nico.

Of course, most people don't get deep enough to see the light, under layers and layers of darkness. Unlike when a dessert starts transforming into a beautiful oasis or a grassy field, where signs of upcoming life and light are starting to appear, Nico, the deeper you get, the darker **I**t seems to become. Only when you've surpassed the darkest point is when you're bathed in light, glowing like the sun. Too many give up when they notice that it does not become brighter. Too many run away at the first glance of a challenge.

It's not Nico's fault. He can not help that he was born. He can not say he's controlling everything he does. But like the years, layers of darkness pile up on the light of a young child. Before long, the light may **D**isappear under the pressure. But, Nico's planning on keeping a candle lit. The darkness maybe who he is, but so is the light. So is the light.

_Immortal and Mortal_-

It's simple enough. Need it be el**A**borated? He's a demigod, the offspring of an immortal deity and a mortal. Immortals live forever, watching as the world changes, for better or for worse. Passively, they stare as the mortal world goes through millions of disasters and problems. Occasionally, they'll come down and help a favored mortal.

Mortals live in aspiring awe of the powerful gods. They don't understand the world, so they blame the gods for the challenges it provides. The**Y** don't live as long as the gods, for their life is short and not very fruitful. Only a few have accomplished so much in their allotted time on this Earth.

Many others share this clash with Nico. Although their lives are mortal, they are granted the gifts of the immortal gods. **S**ome even receive immortality in return for heroic deeds or immense talent. They, as a result of this, are not mortal, nor are they immortal. For new demigods, it takes time to adjust to this fact. If you're not mortal, or immortal, what are you?

_Good and Evil_-

Nico knows he isn't evil. Of course not. But he wonders, often, is he **G**ood? All the demigods have been taught that Hades is evil. All the monsters in creation were made from Hades. Nico once believed this, believe it or not. Sometimes he wonders if people see him as evil for being Hades son.

He has turned to the dark side before. Temptation and anger can be very c**O**ntrolling he learns. But don't think for a second, he was evil. He's a good guy, underneath.

Nico isn't the type of kid that likes to talk, likes to express emotions. His exterior is cold and cruel, hiding the fragile, vulnerable soul in an near unbreakable box. Often, this gets him **D**ubbed as an evil person, with no conscience or care. They don't know that he does care. He does.

Once they learn he is a son of Hades, the supposedly most evil god ever, they **B**e sure to keep their distance. But his mother was a kind and gentle soul, one that was surely missed, even years after her death.

He's angry at the world, and he shows it. He blocks out everyone. But there's a reason. He doesn't want to get attached. **L**ook where its gotten him. And, while people may not know it, he does do kind things underhandedly. When Annabeth realized Luke was gone, and Percy was too out of it to say comforting words, he comforted her, at his own expense by telling her about Bianca.

Nothing hurts more than when people automatically assume he isn't a good guy. If you keep calling people something he's not, **E**ventually he'll become that. And he doesn't want to become evil. Even after trials and tribulations, he's kept to who he is all along.

It may not **S**eem like much, but when someone gives him a cold glare, his blood chills, and his outer personality becomes someone he's truly not. It's okay, he's used to it, but sometimes he wonders, is this like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde where the good doctor becomes someone he's not?

…

If you were to choose a color for Nico, you would have to choose more than one. He's a juxtaposition of **S**o many things. Life and death, light and dark, immortal and mortal, good and evil, and so much more. But it doesn't matter. All things, make who he is.

Two things, that couldn't be anymore different, existing side by side, like the sun and the moon in the sky, in harmony is who Nico is. And he's pretty fine with that.

**Well, I'm sorry that this sucks. I've been having major writer's block induced by projects, life, etc. I hope everyone has a fantastic Christmas, or had a superb Hanukah, whatever you celebrate. Thank you for reviewing and reading. It's been an excellent experience. By the way, since I won't see you until next year, Happy New Years!**

**By the way, did any one catch my secret message? If you didn't, here's a hint: Look at all the bold capital letters in the story. Hope you guys have a great winter break!**

**I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan. **


	11. Koan

Koan:

_Koan- A problem or riddle that has no logical solution_

He crumples the piece of paper that falls at his feet probably from a young school child's backpack. The list of words and definitions are written messily in a child's scrawl. All the words tilt up, the ink smeared slightly. One word stands out, koan. It's a small word, easy to read even with dyslexia.

The paper falls to the ground and is swept away among the rush of civilians. He walks away, hands in his pockets, lost among the crowded streets. He reappears on the opposite end of the city. No one notices him as he wanders aimlessly around, lost in his thoughts.

It's kind of funny. That word applies perfectly to his life. It's not a big, well known word, and it's definitely not one used often. It's a simple word, that if you first saw it, wouldn't understand what it was. It contains many hidden meanings that link to one thing, one meaning.

He's exactly like that. On the outside, he doesn't seem like much. He's not a person of great importance, or one well known amongst the world. He's a mix of so many things, but they all result in one person, him.

Then the physical meaning itself relates to his life. His life is so confusing. There are twists and turns, ups and downs, that defy all meanings of reality. If his life was supposedly a ball of yarn, his would be all twisted up and knotted. Unraveling it would be impossible. There would be so many obstructions and impediments that a normal person would go insane.

"Watch it freak," a burly teenager says as he pushes through Nico. He trips but catches himself and stumbles along the sidewalk. He continues to walk, indifferent to the sudden unkindness demonstrated. The boy continues his stroll. Losing himself in thought is perhaps the easiest to do now.

Perhaps there's more than just a series of knots and twists. Perhaps his life is more than just an impossible riddle to solve. He's no psychiatrist that can get deep down in to a person's psyche by studying their actions and emotions. But, he's still himself, is he not? And who better can unravel himself, than him?

As for every puzzle, you need a starting point. You need a place to start having everything fit together. One by one, piece by piece. The only problem is, he doesn't know where to start. He could start from when he was born. Or when his mother died. Or when they were placed in the Lotus Casino. Or when Percy Jackson found them. So many places to start, so many things that went wrong.

He laughs a little. Every puzzle, no matter how complicated, how scrambled and destroyed, when fixed becomes a thing of iridescent beauty, pieced together to fit every crevice and crack. Whether it be a childish puzzle with only a few pieces or a 5000 piece puzzle that depicts a scenic view of a waterfall, or the forest, everything fits together.

But then of course, that's assuming there are no pieces missing. You can't build anything if you're missing pieces. One piece could make the difference in a structure of a building, one package in a packet of Legos could make or break a child's heart.

If he thinks about it, there are many pieces missing. The little parts that he has with him, can't connect harmoniously. His memories are blurred, broken, and confused, and the puzzle pieces are missing. Even if he managed to build the puzzle, it will be always missing something.

As he sits and stares out into the expanse of foliage and sidewalks, interloping with skyscrapers and city streets, he listens to a sound of laughter, a sound that he had been deprived of at an early age. His ears pick up a sound, alien and foreign, yet familiar and easily understood. His eyes sweep across his surroundings, trying to identify the sound.

It could be the little girl, being pushed high on the swings by her big brother, shrieking with fear and joy. It could be the two friends playing tag, laughing and screaming with high-pitched thrills. Or the old couple wobbling along the path, holding hands like teenagers in the prime of their youth.

Finally, he figures out it is the cat stuck in the branch hanging over his head. The cat is meowing, howling in fear, its claws sinking into the bark. There's a little boy standing on the opposite side of the tree, hidden from his view, calling the little cat down, begging it to come back.

Sighing, Nico hoists himself up into the tree and climbs the leafy branches. The kitten bats his hands away with its paws. Wrapping his hands around the small frame of the cat, he prepares to leap down. Suddenly, the kitten clamps its teeth on his finger, sending a brief moment of pain.

It's not like the wounds he receives from battling monsters and it definitely won't kill him, but it hurts enough to cause him to wince and loosen his grip on the cat. The kitten falls in to the unsuspecting arms of the little boy calling for the cat. The boy yelps in surprise, but cuddles the kitten, squeezing the cat a little too tightly.

The youth doesn't see his figure hidden in the leafy branches of the tree. As he scurries home, the cat cradled inside his arms, Nico leaps down to the ground. By the looks of the sun drawing to a close, he assumes that it's late and starts making his way back to his "home".

Another paper flies free and whips against his skin. Grabbing it, he looks at a hastily drawn game of hangman, four letters, and the little man already hung. On the second line, there is an O and on the last, there is an N.

There could be many possibilities for the word, Moon, Goon, Loon, etc. but, when he arrives "home", he shakily takes a pen laying haphazardly on the wooden desk and scribbles in a K and an A.

The pen and paper lays on the desk, untouched.

So, sure his life is a puzzle, and there's no logical way to solve it, but you can't forget. His life, logic flies out of the window, logic doesn't exist.

His life is a koan, a riddle that has no logical solution. But like any puzzle, he'll start piece by piece, and maybe in time, and a little magic, he'll solve this impossible riddle.

**Okay, well this obviously sucks. Sigh. I should be studying. I feel like I ramble and repeat myself too much in these oneshots. It would be helpful to receive constructive criticism. Well, I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	12. Love

Love:

Love is an indifferent emotion, drawing others in like a moth to a candle. It does not care for the people it infects, how they're lives are changed through the emotional and psychological stimulation. You for certain are one of the many that is affected.

You, a quiet young man, one who's already seen more than most older mortals have witnessed in their life time, the young child thrown into an empty dark world with black voids surrounding you, is still drawn into this phenomenon that no one can truly explain. Even those who are constantly surrounded by love, unlike you, can't explain the unpredictable notions of love.

One of the first things you learn about love is when you are but a mere child, wrapped in your mother's arms, snuggled against the lacy, silk-like black fabric of her dress. It's warm and there's only one word that you can use to describe the feeling: safe. Here, in this fortress of an Italian woman's arms, no one can hurt you. You are concealed from danger, the evils of the world that awaits you. You can't exactly say that you love this woman that towers over you against your mere infant body, but you grab out your fragile, stubby fingers, and clasp her finger, and she knows.

The dark, greasy haired man behind her watches, not exactly with warm eyes, but with a flicker of caring. His pale hand grips the woman's arm, and you can feel the coldness emitting from the person. There's a small girl hanging to the other arm of the lady that you're holding on too. She has dark hair, a curious expression, and olive-toned skin color, and she's staring at you in wonder and awe. You reach out your undeveloped arms for the girl and she hesitantly draws back for a second. Finally she sticks her index finger gently, and you grip on to it and giggle.

The man's eyes soften a mere fraction, but softens nonetheless. Skip forward a few years. You're walking now, running around like the child you're supposed to be. The girl that you handed you her finger when you were a newborn, you realize is actually your older sister, Bianca, runs with you, as you both laugh, the wind blowing both of your hair astray and into a tangled mess of black.

Fast forward time, as you grow up, and the beginnings of war and years of sadness start appearing, rearing their mysteriously evil faces against the human population. You don't fully understand what's going on, but the grim faces of the adults, and the sad eyes of your fellow class mate that have lost their parents in the war tell you that this is no walk in the park. The looming darkness of the world seems so far away though, with you wrapped in a blanket of love spread by your gentle mother.

One day, in a tall building you learn is called a hotel, the dark man you call "Father" and the sweet lady you call "Mama", are talking loudly, the yells dancing across the open air of the enclosed space. They're arguing about something "safe", and "I can't allow that". The man lowers his voice, almost to begging standards, but still possessing that air of authority, pleading for the woman to let him take you all to a place called "the Underworld". You don't understand what's going on, as you stare quietly between the two adults. The woman softly smiles, love exuding from every surface of her body. She says something gently, walks away.

The clouds start crackling with thunder, and the man senses it. In an explosion, you're shielded by a wall of crackling black energy, wrapped in your father's arms. When the dust clears, the hotel is in ruins, and you can see the faint outline of a woman, broken beyond repair, dressed in a black dress, laying among the debris. The man runs up to her, cradling the damaged body, cursing at a mysterious girl dressed in many assorted, rainbow colors. After a few screams and shouts, the girl that suddenly appeared, vanishes, after an agonizing wail.

He turns to you and your sister. A strange creature appears, and in pained words, he gives instructions to the monster. There are words that you never heard of, "The River Lethe", but the pain toned words laced with anger and guilt, but mostly unbelievable sadness, the type of sadness that shouldn't even exist, indicates that something horrible has happened.

After your memories are erased, you must learn again what love is. Instead of a pair of loving arms from your mother, you only have the scarred expression and over-protectiveness demeanor of your sister. You both are trapped, trapped in a world where time is limitless, where worries fade away, and time ceases to move. Underneath the layers and layers of flashing lights, whizzing sounds, and plastic smiles, there's a small sense of something isn't right laying dormant. Your emotions are dulled to the point where happiness is just a blur of senses, and sadness is unexplainable. Here, love is but a nonexistent emotion, one that remains hidden by games and colorful lights.

However, once they exit the world of lights and color, of false realities, of empty dreams to beat the next high score, you come upon the real world, where emotions such as anger, love, and hate are real. Here, you start to experience love again. It comes in the form of your older sister by two years, and her protective gaze and caring smile, laced with small specks of sadness. It's the only love you ever really know in this new world, the one that you can't remember except for the blurred and faint memories laying buried beneath the recesses of your mind.

This love is strong. It's strong beyond normal imagination, but it isn't strong enough and crumbles under the powerful pressure of temptation, one that gives immortality and... freedom. Freedom from the burdens that you come with, freedom from the pain that you bring, freedom from having to take care of you, freedom from... you.

Love hurts, you realize. You love your sister, the only thing that has been able to protect you and return your love. Harboring the pain you feel, the need to protect the one person that has been your shield, you see the truth unraveling before your eyes. Love that can't be returned: unrequited love. But it can't be. This love for you sister, the love that she has for you, it must be stronger. It is after all, the love only shared by siblings and family.

But your sister, the only person you could truly say you love dies. Love transcends the depths of time and space, but death is a horrible obstacle, that always leaves one forever saddened, to the point of depression in many cases. Since you are the son of death itself, you think you can remove the obstacle. It's all too simple. It's way too easy. But truth of the matter is that it's fiercely impossible. Not even the Lord of the Dead can bring the dead back.

Your love turns to anger. A burning passion and desire for revenge, and for a way to get Bianca back. There must be a way. But time heals all wounds, and your hatred of Percy Jackson turns into a gruff respect, which eventually turns into love, the kind one has for a good friend. Originally, he was only supposed to be a replacement for Bianca, but he became important in your life.

You've never really experienced love in the romantic sense, the type where girls giggle with airy pitches, and boys exaggerate and act differently. But at the same time, the world of love, any type of love, has opened up to you. You've seen and felt nearly all of it. Unrequited love: love that can't or won't be returned, but happens nonetheless. (He doesn't know who this applies too. Maybe him, maybe someone close. But he knows what it is.) Sibling love: the love that one feels for a family member and/or a sibling. (He and Bianca, the other half-bloods with their demigod siblings, he and Percy, he and Annabeth, etc.) True love: Love that can withstand the power of time, and is returned with equal valor and strength. (Percy and Annabeth, Silena and Beckonderf, Chris and Clarisse, etc.)

Love is unpredictable. It flows in waves that differ with each passing second. Love is impossible to understand. But it's okay. As long as you have love, you'll be happy. Truth is, love doesn't hurt. Pain and heartbreak hurt. Love is the thing that puts all the pieces back together and makes you feel good again.

Nico, love is something that you shouldn't fear.

**Hey everyone. I failed again at writing a decent story. Oh well. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in quite some time. But seeing that this the February, the month of Valentines, or in my case, Singles Awareness Day, I thought that it would be a nice idea. I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All rights and rewards go to Rick Riordan.**


	13. Memories

Memories:

Everything changes,

Time always moves.

How unpredictably predictable

Nothing is ever the same,

And then you're caught in a world of…

Terror,

Danger,

Darkness,

Death,

Nothing.

But it wasn't always like this, was it?

It wasn't always dark,

Not always desolate,

It wasn't always like this.

Memories,

That's what you cling on to,

Trying to get by in this cruel world.

They're the only things you have left.

It seems so empty when you think back,

Look back at what you once had,

What you once knew.

The sky outside is dark now,

No longer does the sun seem so pleasant.

Clouds mar the sky,

Floating by,

Carelessly, freely.

"_Hey, Bianca. Look! That cloud looks like a jellyfish!"_

"_Nico, that's obviously a bunny. See the ears?"_

You miss the laughter.

You miss the smiles.

You miss the carefree life you had.

Now the clouds look like empty, meaningless blobs.

They hold no game,

They hold no childish pleasure anymore.

The tree you sit under sways in the breeze,

Leaves rustling,

Falling to the ground,

One by one.

"_Nico, look what I found!"_

"_Bianca, it's just a tree."_

"_No, look closely. Can't you see it? Right there, right next to that big branch."_

"_What? I don't see anything."_

"_Over there. See?"_

"_Whoa, is that a…"_

Do you remember what you saw?

The answer: No.

The bird flaps its wings,

Flying through the sky effortlessly,

And you wish you were it.

Able to ascend into the winds,

And fly away.

"_Look mama, I'm flying!"_

"_Ai, ai. I see, I see."_

"_Papa, higher, higher!"_

"_Of course, Nico. Up you go."_

Did you like the way the wind felt in your hair?

Did you like the way it felt like nothing could hold you down?

Of course you did.

You continue remembering.

Rummaging through memories,

Many lost, many blurred and broken.

The little chrysalis stuck to a leaf near your foot is empty,

The butterfly already set free.

"_Look Bianca! It's a butterfly! Let's catch it."_

"_But Nico, it's so pretty. Why should it be held in captivity?"_

"_Hurry Bianca, it's getting away!"_

"_Of course Nico. Wait, don't grab it!"_

When will you be set free?

You don't know.

You never do.

The leaves falling sounds almost like rain.

Maybe it is.

"_Aww, why is it raining, now of all days?"_

"_Patience Nico. You'll get to go out soon."_

"_But mama, I want to go out now and play!"_

"_Can you wait for a little bit?"_

"_Yes mama. But that doesn't mean I like the rain."_

You don't know.

Thunder crackles in the distance.

Lightning zips across the sky.

The clouds darken.

The sun doesn't appear as bright.

"_Papa, is it going to rain?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_You sound worried. Is it?"_

"_Of course it's not. Now go get your sister."_

"_Okay, because I don't like the rain."_

You still don't.

Something wet runs down your cheek.

You look up.

The sky hasn't taken a stormy quality.

It's a tear.

A sad tear.

"_Bianca, don't die!"_

"_Nico, I already am dead."_

"_This is a dream right?"_

"_This is reality Nico."_

"_No, this is a dream. Mama and Papa are with us. You're alive."_

You hate how wrong you were.

The wind blows gently,

Pulling your hair,

Whipping it into your eyes.

You pull the strands away,

And the wind picks up again.

The leaves unlucky enough to have fallen,

Fly up, up, up.

Fly away, far away.

A cruelly symbolic image of you and your memories

You're the tree.

Rooted, strong, still

They're the memories.

The leaves, clinging to the branches

As you grow, you make new ones.

New memories to hold on to.

New memories to love,

To cherish.

Then they fall,

They leave you.

But they're still there.

Just not as vibrant,

Not as clear and focused.

Not as alive.

The wind is the gods.

The ability to wipe away every memory,

Wipe away every thought.

Completely clear,

Empty

Gone.

You are powerless,

Weak,

Compared to the Olympians.

They know that too.

And they'll abuse that power.

They always do.

Time changes everything.

Soon, you will have more memories.

Guarantee, not all will be pleasant.

Some still aren't.

But they're memories,

Replacements of the ones you've lost.

Everything is so predictably unpredictable.

But you cling to the memories.

Remember the memories.

**Ohiyo! I'm sorry that I attempted poetry. I prefer rhymes, but I decided to freestyle and it didn't really come out as planned. Oh well. I hope that you guys aren't mad at my delayed updates. Sorry, I've just been hopping around different fandoms and have been busy with life. I hope that you don't find this rather crude and short like I do, but it's okay. I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	14. Never

Never:

There are many things in this world that will never happen. The tooth fairy will never start making monthly appearances at the dentist's office. The lazy ghetto boy from Spanish class who has no idea how to speak proper English without a gangster-punk-street accent will never grow up to be a popular British classical singer. Two parallel lines would never meet. Percy Jackson will never betray his friends.

There are just some things that will never happen.

And honestly, Nico likes that sometimes. He's tired of all the surprises. Monsters and Greek gods never existed… now they're the biggest part of his life. His sister would never die at a young age… now he's talking to his sister's ghost who now has a younger appearance than him.

Never was a nice word. Nico liked never.

Never meant a boundary that could act as a shield. Never meant a small, protected world, where nothing would really change. Never meant limits, never meant rules.

Never meant safety.

Of course, to some, it didn't sound like the best option. Who wants to be controlled by the limits of impossible and possible? To some, never meant boring, never meant giving up.

Nico was one of the few people who, although was originally one of the few kids that liked to follow the rules, became rebellious, trying to break down the walls of NEVER. Because never meant things were impossible.

Nico hated never.

He hated that it was so preventive. You can never do this. You can never do that. Don't.

So, he broke wall one. Many didn't think that he was a son of the Big Three. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He shouldn't. He was. Although they thought it was impossible, it was never going to happen, Nico broke through the first wall of NEVER.

Never wasn't impossible any more.

But no rebellion is easy. Nico came across harder obstacles, harder challenges that challenged both his physical and psychological strength. He came across walls that took more than power to knock down.

Time passed, Nico's progress out of NEVER increasing in only the slightest. Then came the largest wall ever in the terms of NEVER- bringing back the dead.

No one could do that. It was a physical impossibility. No one could bring back the dead. One could never do a deed as impossible as this.

So, Nico tried to break down the wall of NEVER. He was going to bring back Bianca di Angelo from the dead. Unfortunately, this task was much harder than he could have thought. Not only was it a far greater and impossible wall to break through, others strived against him, making the wall bigger and taking him off course.

Nico struggled against the outside forces that brought words of "It's impossible." "Nico, you can't do this." "No one has ever done this." "It's never been done."

Exhausted, Nico let loose his hold of trying to break down this wall of NEVER. Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, Grover, and others stood behind him, offering a hand to be pulled back into a world of safety.

But Nico saw the faces of those that hated that he defied NEVER while they couldn't. He had done something that many only dreamt of doing.

Nico wasn't satisfied though. Although he couldn't break through that wall of NEVER, he still had more walls to conquer, and he was the type that never liked to give up.

Digging through the past was something that Nico never thought of doing, until he learned about his unusual life story. Being stuck in the Lotus Casino meant that more time had passed around him that what it had felt like. So, he had questions. And he wanted answers.

But, NEVER, decided that he needed another obstacle. The wall it put up this time came in the form of his father, Hades, and his stubborn attitude.

Hades would never give Nico any information about his mother, Maria di Angelo. He wouldn't even let Nico try to find it himself, threatening the demigod that if he tried anything then he would suffer his wrath.

Hades blocked all contact with the ghost of Maria di Angelo from Nico. Instead, when Nico had tried to summon her, a memory of the day she died appeared. Falling to his knees, Nico stared in horror, as his father materialized, frowning and voice ready to destroy.

Nico didn't get much information, but he learned something more of his past. He learned the reasons, of being put in the Lotus Casino, of Maria's death, of the illness of May Castellan and the reason her son, Luke, became so bitter towards the gods starting this war.

This time, instead of breaking the wall down of NEVER, he simply flew over it. He could get past it without trying to destroy it.

But, he came across another blockage. He knew that it was crucial to assist the other demigods of Camp Half-blood in the Battle of Manhattan. Now, how to convince Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, to join a battle that he insisted would not benefit him in any way.

Most of the other demigods already thought, "Hades would never join us. He hates us." Hades didn't hate the demigods for no reason, but because the demigods loathed him just because he reigned over the dead. Nico understood this, many of the other half bloods preferred to stay away, but he couldn't give up.

The others needed someone strong to lead them. Sure, he wasn't the strongest, but due to being a son of one of the Big Three, he could greatly assist them on the ground while Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover confronted Kronos/Luke on Olympus.

This time, Nico shoved through the wall of NEVER with so much force, that all the other things that held him back were knocked out of the way from the power. And when the end came, Nico had barreled right through another wall of NEVER.

NEVER was a world of pointless boundaries and restrictions. Sometimes it kept you safe, other times it was made of glass barriers that were just simple lies. NEVER wasn't the type of world where everything existed peacefully. Things clashed and collided, creating obstacles and openings.

Nico knows how to navigate through NEVER.

Things are never impossible when you're rebelling against NEVER. Never can't stop him now.

**Ciao. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a month, and then update with a pretty repetitive, bad, boring story. I'm sorry. Anyways, thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and all that jazz. It makes me feel like I can actually write. I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	15. Originality

Originality:

Teachers are stupid, Nico decides, one day after classes. Originality points, my sword.

It's one of those days when the world seems against you. For Nico di Angelo, the worst thing of the day comes in the form of a essay assignment that was supposed to talk about originality. The criteria to get a good grade was: neatness, following instructions, and originality.

And the worse part was, it was due tomorrow. Any kid with ADHD and dyslexia would have had a panic attack by then, worrying frantically over the grade that could or could not keep them in the one school they hadn't managed to get kicked out of for a full year.

But, Nico wasn't exactly the most normal person. He was the demigod Son of Hades, one of the most powerful half-mortals alive. He still didn't feel like getting kicked out of school again though, mind you.

Once he got home, he set to trying to think of a topic. What would be an original topic?

Dogs? (too pet-friendly)

Horses? (how would that work?)

Pegasus's? (eh…)

Hercules? (who would want to write about that guy?)

Hades? (his father? not exactly the best idea- wait a minute…)

Suddenly, in his distracted state of mind, a knock was heard on the door. "Nico, open up!" Percy yelled from outside.

"It's open," he yelled back, to lazy to get up from his position at his desk. The door opened with a creak. In walked the tall green-eyed teenager, holding a large container.

"Hey, Nico. My mom just wanted to make sure you weren't starving yourself. Here's some of her homemade food. It's still kind of warm."

"Thanks Percy," Nico said distracted, tapping his pencil against his head, trying to focus his thoughts into coherent sentences.

"So, what are you doing?" Percy said curiously, inching over to peer over the younger boy's shoulder. Seeing Nico's name scrawled haphazardly in the corner, but otherwise a blank page of notebook paper, he chuckled. "Oh, an essay. Need some help?"

Glaring at the older boy, Nico replied, "No, I was busy thinking of a topic until you came along. Please get out."

"So, what's it about?"

"Percy. Get out. Now."

"Fine, fine. This is what I get for being the great hero of Olympus," Percy said jokingly, heading towards the door. Looking back, Percy saw Nico's head bent down, his hand scribbling messed up words onto the paper.

Chuckling good-naturedly, Percy shut the door behind him quietly, letting the younger boy work. Nico didn't even notice that the Son of Poseidon had left until he finished putting the last period down of the first paragraph.

Glancing outside, finding that it was almost sunset, Nico sighed. Opening Percy's mom's homemade meal, he ate half of the over-sized portion that was in the plastic container, before going back to work.

At ten in the night, Percy came by to see if Nico had finished eating so he could take back the container. Percy found Nico slumped over his desk, sleeping peacefully. Gently, Percy shook Nico awake.

Shooting up, hitting the invincible hero on the nose, Nico awoke. Rubbing his head where he had collided with Percy's face, he turned to see the Son of Poseidon standing on top of him.

"What do you want Percy?" he said tiredly.

"My mom's Tupperware."

"Oh here. Tell her I said thanks."

"Nico, you didn't even eat all of it! How am I going to explain that to her?"

"Sorry, I was working. My head hurts. Too much English. Do you know how hard it is to write an essay when you have dyslexia?"

Staring incredulously at the younger boy who was rubbing his eyes, Percy replied, "Yeah. Now, you should get to sleep. Are you done with your essay?" Nico nodded, barely comprehending what the other boy was saying. "Go to sleep then," commanded Percy.

Finally, Nico stood up, blearily making his way to the small bed that was provided for him when he had gotten the temporary room so that he could continue school. Percy smiled before bending down to try to organize the mess of papers that was scattered across the desk.

However, before Percy finished so that he could leave, the title of the essay caught his eye. _Heroes._

Naturally, this caught the attention of the boy. Why would Nico be writing about heroes?

Sitting down, Percy started reading the work, desperately trying to read the words. The handwriting left a lot to be desired, and spelling was undoubtedly messed up. But when Percy had finished struggling over it, he had a thoughtful look on his face.

Setting the papers down, Percy left swinging his mom's container with the topic of Nico's paper in his mind. On the desk laid a young teenager's paper about the originality of heroes.

_Heroes_

_By: Nico di Angelo_

_I'm not exactly sure what this paper is supposed to be about. To be honest, this is stupid. I mean, seriously, why would someone need to write something like this._

_But I guess I should be serious. I decided my essay would be about heroes. Yeah, it's probably not that creative, but whatever._

_Heroes are different. They're unique. They're definitely unexpected, coming in all shapes and forms. Trust me, I should know. But, I think there is something that a lot of heroes lack. _

_Don't get me wrong. I admire people who are heroes. They're probably the most interesting people out there. But, most heroes lack originality._

_Originality, that's a funny thing, isn't it? I mean, what exactly is it? And I'm honestly just too lazy to look in the dictionary. I think originality isn't just about being different or unexpected. I think it's doing something that you yourself want to do._

_Sure, most people probably aren't very creative. But, then again, most people don't really listen to themselves. I mean, pretty much this entire world is wannabees, you know? You know, the kind of people that you just want to strangle because they can't think for themselves. Those type of people._

_What was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Heroes. Heroes are the type of people you can never decide to kill or save. _

_Some heroes are bad. I know you're probably asking, how are heroes bad? I would try to explain, but you wouldn't understand. Anyways, some heroes are bad, and some are good._

_So, once you remove all the bad ones, you end up with a muddle and scrabble of good people. Of course, half of these people are spineless idiots. The other half is totally brainless. But then again, that's just my opinion._

_And most of these heroes lack originality. They always follow someone else's rules. Where's the fun in that? Honestly. _

_I guess you could say that I've had first hand experience with people like that. Those are the people that just can't say no or fight back against the higher power. It's pathetic. They listen to everything they're told, following blindly without question._

_But, I guess, it's partly the G… I mean the higher ups fault. They aren't that original either. Any thing they ask us to do has probably been done before. How boring. For example, my… (friend, I think), had to do something that this other guy had done before and he got seriously hurt when he had to recreate it._

_Well, I guess there isn't much else that I can say. Um… how do I end one of these things? I guess, what I'm trying to say is that: Like good heroes, originality is so hard to find._

**Hello! How are you guys? It's been a while since I wrote for this story. I decided to try something new and wrote a little story versus a character study. But in the end, I guess I just ended up ranting. I hope that your summer break is treating you well. For those still in school, so sorry. I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	16. Pretend

Pretend:

_Come to the world of make-believe, _

_With its perfect towers and trees._

_Come to the world of fantasy,_

_Come to the world of this make-belief._

Nico di Angelo was most definitely not like other boys his age. He was the son of the Death God, Hades. He fought monsters on a weekly basis and carried around a Stygian Iron sword. He could manipulate and travel through the shadows. He could raise the dead and summon the souls of the deceased.

He most definitely was not like the other boys.

But, underneath the guise of the loner son of Hades, Nico was like any other kid. He liked to play and hang out with his friends. He smiled when he was happy and cried when he was sad. He liked to shoot baskets and dress in jeans.

Nico was a lot like the other kids.

But, no one really saw that. Everyone saw him as different, and if there were something unusual about a person, wouldn't everything else be too? So, people decided to leave the unusual boy alone. That's what he wanted, right?

Admittedly, Nico was glad when they strayed away from his side. He didn't need anyone and no one needed him. That was the way it was. If no one cared for him, he wouldn't care for anyone.

Life was simple that way. But then silly Percy Jackson had to go and make everything complicated, bringing in ethics and morals. By the end, Nico found himself wrapped into a complex world, set aside from his black and white view.

Here, there was no good and bad. There was no justice by revenge. Percy Jackson's world that he had introduced to Nico was friend and enemy, mercy and forgiveness. There was no black and white, not even a plain grey neutral territory. There were colors, designed to fit each person.

Percy was a perfect sea-green/blue, gentle and inviting, but also fierce and powerful. Annabeth was a stunning silver, tough as nails, but feminine in her own way. Grover was a leaf-green, both weak and strong. Rachel was a fiery red, like her hair, burning those that stood in her way, but warming those who needed help.

Then, there was Nico. He was a sleek obsidian black, both unique and beautiful, but also dark and underappreciated. He didn't feel like he fit in with the other colors that his friends represented. He wasn't vibrant or comforting, simply cold and empty.

But Percy wove him into the splash of colors on the canvas. He mixed with the sharp silver and sea green, who welcomed him with open arms. Even the leaf-green kindly accepted him, although he recoiled in fear at first by the death that followed him. He clashed with the fiery red, who chided him like an older sister would have.

This world was perfect, almost. Nothing was really perfect. Perfect in itself was a paradox.

Here, could he be a little kid again. Sure, he would have to battle monsters every now and then, but didn't all demigods? After the Battle of Manhattan, there were less monsters and he felt like he could relax again.

Then came the introduction to the Roman half of the gods. Suddenly, comrades were enemies and everything was knocked off balance. Percy went missing and Jason appeared memory-less. Leo and Piper, mere Hephaestus and Aphrodite demigods were suddenly stronger than any other camper who had trained for years at Camp Half-blood.

Everything felt different. Nothing was the same.

When Nico got back from one of his missions to find Percy, he returned to find a building site and battle preparation, much more intense than the one during the battle with Kronos. Instead of the Apollo kids shooting baskets, the Ares kids sparring, and the Demeter kids gardening, they were all at their respective weapon stations, training for the upcoming battle.

Sighing, Nico joined in. Although he wasn't going to be one of the Chosen Heroes, he still needed to help. He helped train the younger demigods, including the children of the gods that helped his father in the Underworld. Hypnos cabin was especially frustrating because they kept falling asleep.

A week later, they were still building the ship and others continued to train. Underneath the hot sun, Nico watched the others demonstrate how to properly shoot a bow, handle a sword, and how to aim daggers. Instead of arts and crafts, there was melding and creating weapons. Instead of Pegasus lessons, there were air battles. Instead of swimming and canoeing, it was learning how to survive.

Finally, Chiron called Nico in for another mission. He was to shadow-travel to a sighting of some monsters that were terrorizing an area that was needed to safely travel to the Roman camp. He would leave in a week.

Preparing, Nico stood by the Hephaestus shack to see if they could sharpen his sword. When no one came by, Nico gave up and went to the workshop himself, spinning the sharpening wheel, letting the blade give off bright orange sparks.

When he returned, he found his bed neatly made, the backpack he packed filled with provisions such as ambrosia and nectar, even junk food, sitting on the middle of the bed. Closing the door behind him, he opened the bag to find that everything was neatly ordered and stored, unlike the sloppy mess that he had made when he had thrown everything in.

Finally, the last day of camp he had before leaving again came. So far, campfire nights were scarce and sparse, so he had little hope that he would get to sit in one before he left. Nico planned to leave in the middle of the night to help increase the element of surprise.

As he picked up his bag, ready to leave just a little early, he heard a noise. It was one of laughter and cheer. There was singing and soft chatter that seemed to vibrate in his room.

He went to the amphitheater, sitting on one of the benches, immersing himself in the sound of happiness. He watched everyone smiling, making it seem like everything was normal again. Everyone was laughing and having fun, something he hadn't seen since he had returned to camp.

Closing his eyes, he smiled. Even though things weren't always going to be okay, it was always nice to pretend.

**Well, what do you think? Again, I don't think I have a clear storyline, but I've just managed to write this under writer's block, so I guess I shouldn't be too depressed. I don't own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	17. Questions

Questions:

_(all my thoughts to no one)_

_(all my questions that will never be answered)_

_(when will I wake up from this nightmare?)_

It's unfair, Nico thinks as he watches the skeletal figures wield shovels, digging a hole the size of a grave, six feet deep. He throws in a few cheeseburgers and pours in a large cup of coke, courtesy of the dollar menu at McHale's.

He chants a few words and the pit illuminates with ghostly spirits each trying to take a piece of the offering. One steps up, accepting the food, drinking deeply from the sludge before standing up. The specter becomes a bit more colorful, a bit more human, a bit more alive, before turning its face to Nico.

It's a new face, one that wouldn't normally be recognized on a daily basis. It isn't a hero, it's not a criminal, just a plain civilian caught in between. Questioning begins.

"What do you need… master?

"Who are you?

"I am… (the name passes emptily, unimportant). Why?"

"Did you know Maria di Angelo?"

"If I say yes?"

"Did you know her?"

"Should I say?"

"Don't make me repeat. Did you know her?"

"No, I did not know Maria di Angelo."

"That will be all."

With a wave of his hands, the spirits return to the Underworld, leaving a dark night and a discouraged boy. Spirits were inconsistent sources of information, lacking in many memories and connections. He didn't know why he continued to search, but in the end, that was just another question to ask himself.

Even those who knew the answer only had answers that led to more questions. The questions exponentially increased, leading Nico in circles and ovals. If he got a straight answer, which usually never happened, new information would pop up that contradicted with everything he had discovered.

Questions were simple things, weren't they? A question was basically a sentence with a question mark at the end, right? So, where in the world did questions become so complicated?

Nico asked questions, only to be returned with more questions. Only to think of new questions. Only to continue to find more questions. That wasn't how questions worked, right?

When you asked a question, you get an answer, albeit not always the right one as shown in testing and school (which Nico never did well in anyways). No expects you to reply with a question.

But, that seems like the only thing people do nowadays.

It seems ironic, to reply a question with a question. It's foolish to think that every question will have an exact answer, but it's nice to think that every question we ask will have an answer. Why shouldn't it?

Why is the sky blue?

Science answers that question for you. (And in case you didn't know, it is because light waves that show color are reflected off the air, making the sky appear blue.)

Where do we go when we die?

Some will say heaven, some will say hell. Some will say the Underworld, some will have only 'I don't know.' It just depends on the person.

Nico looked for answers to the questions of life. He asked those alive and those who already had lived, and yet no one knew the answers. How could they not know the answers when they already lived through it?

After another unsuccessful night, Nico collapses on a bench, letting the silence of the night engulf his senses. Why is this so hard? No one answers as expected and the only sign that the question was even said is the light echo that bounces of the rocks, fading away into the wind.

The glowing eyes of nocturnal creatures stare out, minding their own business, busily browsing through dirt and bushes trying to find a meal before the sun rises. It's almost wrong to envy a filthy wild creature, but Nico does. He's had to live dirtily as well by himself, caring for himself, but because he's human, he questions.

An animal doesn't need to ask questions. They don't need answers. It's just survival that's important.

For a demigod, survival comes first, to anything. Don't ask questions, just fight as hard as you can, run as fast as you can. But, after the battle is over, the dead accounted for, demigods are still mortal. And mortals always ask questions.

Granted, demigod issues are a little different from mortals, it's safe to assume that the questions are similar.

Who? What? When? Where? How? and most importantly, Why?

Why? That seems to be the question that no one can answer when Nico asks. Why did this happen? Why couldn't it have been me?

The silence of the night doesn't have an answer, and if it did, it doesn't make it known, only merely letting the whistling wind slide by and the rustle of leaves sound that much louder. He could ask every question he had in his mind but that wouldn't matter because there are too many to count let alone ask.

Instead, when the sun rises, Nico drags himself farther from the scene of his latest attempt to find answers. Maybe he should drop by a visit to Camp Half-Blood. Or maybe stop by his father's palace. Maybe he should contact Bianca. What should he do?

He trudges along kicking up dust and dried up leaves that fell from the heat of the summer. It's still too early for anyone to be awake, so Nico continues to walk leisurely, taking his time, reviewing the answers he received. He realizes that he didn't get any answers, just another boatload of questions that continue to bounce around in his head.

Frustration sets in but he's too used to the feeling and doesn't react to the anger building up in his body. He only sighs and tries to figure out what he's going to do to get some answers.

Maybe it isn't too bad, having questions. Most questions we ask end up unanswered. It's frustrating but maybe that's the way mortals are created. To constantly seek questions even though the gods don't have answers.

Because in the end, as long as we can ask questions, we can always find answers, right?

_(no one listens, no one hears)_

_(but am I even asking?)_

**Hello! Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. I haven't been able to think straight due to the summer heat. I hope everyone is having an awesome summer. Thank you guys for giving me over 100 reviews. You guys are too kind because I honestly thought this story wasn't going to go anywhere. It's really encouraging. I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All credits and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	18. Rain

Rain:

It's five in the morning and the sun has not even started to show its warm rays through the horizon. The silence of night remains and only the small wisps of wind dare make a sound. The sky is dyed a murky black, the stars faded dots in the expanse of nothingness that surrounds them.

Nico di Angelo spends his time during five in the morning fast asleep, camped out in gods know where. Nothing dare disturbs him, but only dreams plague his consciousness. The dreams are vibrant and the colors explode like a million atoms. Voices beckon to him and whisper heavy secrets and scary threats to his dream self and his subconscious retaliates by removing them before they go too far.

It's seven in the morning and the sun has just started to show its rays. The sky has lost its dark color, but doesn't become the lovely sky blue that normally offsets the fluffy white of the clouds. And the fluffy white of the clouds are a dull gray, blemishing the spotless sky.

Nico di Angelo, at seven in the morning, is half-awake, blinking the last residue of sleep from his eyes. Blearily, he looks around, only to remember what last happened. Frowning, he dusts his clothes off and digs through his bag for any scraps of food he was lucky to snag from an unsuspecting imbecile. The imbecile wouldn't mind. He probably had enough food as it was judging by the bulging layers of felt seen through the wealthy high-class suit and the multimillion accessories adorning him.

It's nine in the morning. The sky has cleared up considerably and the air feels heavy. The sun still has not gained its warmth and instead shimmers weakly, unable to shine with its normal brightness. The clouds that linger curl against each other, colliding with a slow force, like lazy giants fighting for control.

Nico di Angelo doesn't care that its only nine in the morning and that he is even awake at that time. He managed to find a half eaten granola bar, although he has to force it down from the horrible memory of Demeter trying to force-feed him wheat cereal. He doesn't eat it until his stomach begins to rumble, and the trees start to rustle ominously. He makes his way down the empty city streets, searching for a clue.

It's eleven in the morning and by now the sun should be as brilliant as Apollo (well, it might be that Apollo should be as brilliant as the sun… but that doesn't matter). Instead, it seems weak and timid, barely shining its rays on the world. The clouds that dot the sky swell and merge together until the form uneven rows of cumulus clouds, lining the sky like soldiers preparing for battle.

Nico di Angelo should be in school, like normal kids around this time. It's eleven and most school kids would be waiting in the lunch line talking to their friends. Instead, Nico di Angelo roams the deserted alleyways of an old building, searching for the Doors of Death. He bumps into many impediments littering the ground, searching for any evidence. He doesn't expect a gaping clue to show him the way, nor does he expect a gaping whole to be the answer.

It's one in the afternoon. The clouds that covered the sky slowly surround the sun in mutiny. The weak sun fades even more and the wind begins to steal all the heat meant for the earth. Wind blows shivering air across, rustling the leaves and taking hats of innocent children.

Nico di Angelo clutches his black beanie a bit closer to his head, drawing it closer over his ears to keep them from freezing over. His breath turns to smoke, floating away as he breathes unevenly in the cold. Every sense in his body tells him that he has found it. He has found the doors of death.

It's one in the afternoon and thirty minutes in. The sun has lost to the armada of clouds and only a lingering sense of heat and the dim light signifies that it still lives. The clouds in the sky blanket the sky in a dull gray, proudly overlapping each other in an attempt to control the sky. The birds' singing seems to shout warnings.

Nico di Angelo hides behind a set of barrels, trying not to let his shivering give his location. A few giants, La-something (he doesn't care anymore) walk around, acting as guards to whatever seems to be lurking in the space.

It's two in the afternoon and the clouds that have exiled the sun grow larger and darker. They grow and grow until only the clouds can be seen. The sky becomes a dark gray, like the color of graphite. The air pressure feels heavier, and the wind blows colder and colder.

Nico di Angelo kills another monster before it can call for backup. His sword absorbs its essence, making sure that it won't be reborn. He breathes heavily, the last monster wounding him in the arm. He coughs repeatedly, trying to ward off the pain from registering. He blindly pats around his bag and pockets for some ambrosia and nectar only to find an amount insufficient enough to fully heal his arm. He takes it anyways, cursing his stupidity in not stocking up before he arrived. But then again, it wouldn't help to carry around a million bags of ambrosia because if consumed to heavily, a demigod would burst in to flames. Nico thinks that probably wouldn't be so bad as he shivers and rubs his arms through the thin material of his shirt and jacket.

It's three in the afternoon and the first thing that happens is a single raindrop falls to the ground, splattering on the floor in the most perfect manner, creating a star on the cement. Two, then three soon follow it, then five, then twenty, each time multiplying exponentially, until individual raindrops don't exist, but instead become strands of water that fall from the sky.

Nico di Angelo hears the splatter of raindrops on the roof building, the slow thunder of downpour crashing loudly on the thin metal ceiling. He sees how some of the water leaks through and notices that somehow, all of the rain is drawn to one direction. As soon as the rain reaches a certain point, it freezes and falls to the ground, clattering like noisy dominoes, only to melt into the ground.

It's four in the afternoon and forty-five minutes in. The rain pounds on. The speed has increased enormously and the rain seems to strike every surface with power like a bullet. The pedestrians unfortunate enough to be caught in the weather desperately pray for a miracle for someone to come and save them from the pelting raindrops.

Nico di Angelo desperately prays to the gods, to Zeus, to Poseidon, to his father, to any god that will listen calling for help as he is dragged closer to the Doors of Death. No one answers, too caught up in his or her own problems to listen to his. He struggles but there are too many monsters watching him and even he could shadow travel away, he would accidentally bring his captors with him. As he gets closer, he sees that the rain that has froze hasn't actually been melting, but instead, being consumed by the ground, feeding it like how water satisfies the thirst of a human.

It's five in the afternoon and the sky remains a sharp gray. The rain still pounds on but by now, everyone has returned home and is happily sitting by the heater trying to return warmth to their bodies with a cup of hot cocoa and a towel sopping up the wet water from their damp clothes and hair.

Nico di Angelo doesn't flinch when the soft voice returns, chiding and scolding him like a grandmother would to a child and in the ironic sense, it sort of is. However, the novelty of the idea wears thin at him because what type of grandmother would keep her grandson hostage by means of a handful of monsters? He pushes her voice from his head and struggles some more. The voice, that once scared him with its coldness and mock superiority, returns once again, laughing at him cruelly and he doesn't understand what will happen anymore.

It's six and nighttime has already come. The rain that attacked everything in sight has lost its strength and will, and it slowly comes to a stop. The sun, trying for one last rally before it must be put to rest peaks out beyond the clouds for a mere moment before they move on in again. In spots left empty, where the clouds do not maintain its stronghold, the sleepy colors of a faded orange and pale violet-pink paint streaks across the once blue, and now murky gray sky.

Nico di Angelo laughs softly as a gentle raindrop hits his head, sliding down his face and into his parched mouth. He has been stuck in the same spot for a while and he needs sustenance. He breathes deeply and for a moment, he can imagine that his powers were not being contained by Gaea's own powers or that he wasn't chained to a large wall guarding the Doors of Death like a human shield. The bruises on his arms and wrists from being manhandled ache and the cut on his arm, which greatly lowered his ability to wield his sword, burns and aches.

It's seven in the night and the sun has said goodbye. The dark clouds slowly drift away and shimmering stars, empowered by the clean air from the rain shower shine brighter and clearer than ever. The wind blows the cool wind throughout, carrying with it the only sounds in the night, leaving only the sounds of industrialization and nature.

Nico di Angelo slowly starts to nod off, exhaustion and starvation eating away at his stamina. As his vision fades, he can make out a bright light and a little girl smiling at him. And then… everything goes black and Nico enters the world of fantasy.

It's midnight and everything is silent. The pitch-black sky is dotted with slender stars that glitter, wanting to be seen. Chained to a wall is a young man, probably no older than you or me, but who has seen more than even veterans. He is lost in his dreams, the only escape from reality. And in his dreams, the rain falls.

Nico di Angelo did always grow up with the rain.

**Hello! I'm really sorry I haven't updated in forever. I've been really busy and couldn't find any inspiration to write. I have even forgotten what letter I was on! Thank you for liking my writing although it is mediocre at best. **

**Okay, so this will be a long author's note since my hiatus was unsatisfactory, even to me. So… how have you guy's been? Aren't you glad it is spring break? Or, don't you wish you got a spring break? I'm not sure if everyone gets breaks like I do. **

**Concerning my writing, since I haven't really diverged from my typical style, what made you guys like my stories? What brought you to my fanfiction? Do you recommend any stories? If you want me to try a different style, feel free to tell me. For example, if you want to read a humorous story, tell me. I'm open to new ideas and although I don't always incorporate them, it helps me decide what to write when I find myself with free time and writer's block.**

**Now, how about pop culture? I've been really into K-Pop. I'll go through this quick because some people don't understand what K-Pop is or just don't like it. K-Pop is Korean pop music, famous for its girl bands and boy bands as well as for the overly exaggerated clothing and hairstyles and heavily electronic music that come with many stereotypical bands. I've only gotten into three bands, and those are BIGBANG, B2ST, and MBLAQ. The guys are super cute/hot and talented, as well funny and amusing. The music they make is awesome too, so if you doubt getting into K-Pop, don't! I recommend them!**

**Anyways, thank you again! All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan. I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. (I don't even remember how I did the disclaimer…)**


	19. Serum

Serum:

_Fighting. War. Death. Everything gone._ _When will this nightmare end?_

_Bloodlust. Screams. Terror. Please, someone, wake me up._

His dark eyes mirror the fire flickering in the night. Another day that has left its bloody mark drawn to an end, leaving only the cover-up of night and memories that could qualify for a horror movie.

There's only a handful left in the group. They've been hunted to Hades and back. What for? Nothing. Nothing but for being who they are, for being monsters. For not being human anymore.

Stupid cheesy stories and movies about vampires always made Nico laugh. Why wouldn't they? It wasn't like vampires existed. In fact, they didn't. They only existed in the recesses of the human imagination that could only form superfluous tall tales of things that it does not understand. Humans didn't understand what they were.

Nico was once human. It was the way all of them started out, even Percy, whose power exceeded all of the group's. Then the war broke out. The war that changed everything, the war that made them monsters.

Nico's parents were killed in the war, but not before Nico's dad, Hades, infected them. Somehow, a group of twelve scientists, plus Nico's father, and a variety of lesser scientists, invented a serum that could grant superhuman powers to anyone, but with a horrible price. The serum could only affect children between certain ages. The later the serum was given, the weaker it would be. Only three of the scientists were able to give it to their children when their children were toddlers. Nico and his sister were one of them.

Meteorologist Zeus, Marine Biologist Poseidon, and Geologist Hades each infected their children with the serum. It was a risky move especially since their children would never be able to have a normal life. Then everything fell apart.

Astronomer siblings Apollo and Artemis discovered that the serum would manifest itself into specific powers depending on the strain that was given. Each strain held different powers, such as War Historian Ares's strain that granted immense fighting ability, or Agriculturalist Demeter's strain that gave power over plants. Each scientist that participated somehow cultivated a strain that granted different powers, infecting their children. These children were to be called New-lings for their new powers.

Suddenly, something went wrong. The T.I.T.A.N.S., Terror In Time Against New-lings Society, started attacking young New-lings, killing them off one by one. The TITANS had invested in a drug that turned innocent humans into hideous, brainless monsters dedicated to attacking New-lings. Parents rushed to hide their children, finding secure places that hid the scent of the serum that raced through their children's blood.

The secret was kept for a few years until Percy Jackson was born. By then, his father has perfected the serum and infected his child. But Percy Jackson would become too strong, so the other scientists found it necessary to hide him away. When he became of age, he was shipped to a hidden laboratory where other New-lings were placed too. However, the TITANS attacked the camp and almost slaughtered all of the New-lings. The next day, from a hidden safe house, the New-ling Luke Castellan was made TITAN ambassador to the human world. From there, everything went wrong.

Humans were selfish things. They wanted the serum for themselves and sought ways to get it. Finally, the scientists decided to destroy their serum and their research. Then, in a blaze of fire, the lab lit aflame and the scientists disappeared into the smoke, leaving only a legacy and a stack of papers behind. The TITAN assassin cleared the bodies and fled, leaving no evidence but the ashes of a high-tech building.

The TITANS finally brought the final strike, declaring war on New-lings for destroying the peace and infecting the world. Humans listened to the eloquent words of the TITAN leader Kronos through the smooth tongue of his second-in-command Luke. Everywhere a New-ling went, they were met with hostile glares and menacing threats. It became impossible to live openly as a New-ling.

Then the war started. Rebellious New-lings, cracking under the pressure of the public, infiltrated the TITAN base and destroyed everything. Then, unsatisfied with the destruction, went into nearby towns and cities and destroyed everything. The serum's final symptom had appeared.

It was war. New-lings that still possessed enough sense not to be drawn into the madness were slowly being depleted as soldiers and civilians attacked anyone that bore trademark New-ling appearances. And with the attacks, many innocent New-lings were slaughtered or forced into the madness that the people had feared the innocent New-lings would fall into.

Nico looked up. There weren't enough of them to battle all of the TITANS and rogue New-lings. The humans would have their heads first before they could even recoup. Running away was the only thing left to do, but he couldn't help feel that there was something that needed to be done. One simple thing that was needed to make everything better again. Bianca probably had the answer, but she was killed in a car "accident" from a TITAN truck that had been tailing the group.

Thalia might have known the answer if she wasn't too busy trying to hunt for survival and sulking over her broken heart from Luke's betrayal. Often, Thalia wouldn't stick long enough with the group to listen to the discussion.

Annabeth was smart, but she was only infected with Athena's serum, which gave her superior intelligence and a variety of other things, but limited powers unlike Percy, Nico, and Thalia. The others in the group were the same. They thought of countless ideas and plans, but the only people who had the strength to pull it off were those three.

Percy, Nico knew, would probably be the one in the end to save the day. But Nico knew that Percy had a lot of problems and a lot of worries. His power was great and his mental strength was in good condition. But he had, as well Thalia and Nico, been tempted many times and his anguish over making the wrong choice weighed his judgment ability down.

Nico sighed. Closing his eyes, he could feel the cold night breeze float over his skin, scratching it like ice, but leaving on goose bumps behind. He frowned. The silence settled upon the group like the nightfall. Slowly, one by one, they fell into an uneasy slumber, drifting into prophetic dreams and unanswerable questions.

Nico closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, trying to find enough inner peace to rest his weary body and mind. Then, in the distance, footsteps could be heard and shouts echoed throughout.

His eyes shot open, he jolted up, and the others as well, started to run. They ran until they couldn't see nor hear the hunters. Then Nico felt something. His powers over the earth felt an underground room. He kicked the earth with all his might and it came loose, revealing a secret metal plate. Prying it open, he peered down and saw a long hall.

Calling the others over, he slid down and entered the secret tunnel. Underneath the ground laid an intricate network of room and halls. However, Percy somehow knew the way, and they came to a large door. When they opened the door, they saw an array of lab equipment and experiments in progress. Then a scientist walked in.

"Dad?" Percy called. Sure enough, Poseidon entered, wearing a blue lab coat and holding a clipboard in his hands. He looked up in shock, then smiled brightly, grinning at his son and embracing him in his arms. "Everyone, come look," he called out, and the room filled with 11 more scientists in different colored lab coats.

Nico searched for his father, but he was nowhere to be found. He felt isolated among the joyous reunions that were happening around him.

After a while of talking and catching up, the scientists released the secret, the one move, to ending the war. Percy nodded. It was up to him.

Nico glanced at the liquids bubbling in the flasks. A thin stream of fluid dripped out into a syringe. That was the serum that created this whole mess. Nico held back his anger and turned away.

The only thing he remembered was the clear liquid that changed colors every few seconds dripping into the needle.

_Fast forward… Time is too slow_

_Let's go past this nonsense_

_Who are you?_

They had done it. Percy had defeated the TITAN leader and was restoring peace among the humans. New-lings could now roam freely among the streets and were quickly rising to hero status with their enhanced abilities.

Nico walked down the street, glancing at the laughing children who were marveling at a New-ling who had once been sucked into the madness but was freed with the miracle drug the G.O.D.S (Going to Open Doors Scientists) created that leveled the symptoms of the serum. Every New-ling was made to carry one in case an attack would occur, sort of like an Epi-pen for an allergic. Nico kept one in his back pocket, tucked under his wallet.

One day, while he was traveling alone, he ran into a loose monster, a left over of the experimental drugs distributed by the TITANS. Out of nowhere, a spear pierced through its hide and it turned to dust. Nico looked up and saw something that took his breath away.

"Dad?" His father turned to him coldly, acknowledging him once with a nod, throwing a small parcel to him that clinked when it landed next to his feet, then disappeared without a word. Nico picked the package up and pulled the thin twine that held it together. The brown paper unraveled and a yellow post-it note fell out.

It read:

_Nico, _

_I am sure that you are surprised that your father is alive. This package I'm giving to you is a serum that will make you invincible. If you take it, your powers will become unmatchable. Take it if you want to surpass the others you are just like you._

_It is your choice,_

_Hades_

Nico looked at the small syringe in his hands, filled halfway with a black opaque liquid. He thought slowly and removed the needle cap.

_Is this what I want?_

_Someone, tell me._

Slowly, he removed the needle from the syringe, letting the black liquid drip to the ground. Dropping it to the dirt, he crushed it with his boot and let it soak into the earth before anyone could ever lay his or her hands on it.

He walked away, leaving behind only glittery pieces of broken glass and a black spot that faded away like a puddle would in the summer.

The serum that changed his life would be the only serum he would ever use because he finally had a chance to live normally. The serum his father gave him wasn't worth it.

_I am who I am because of what has happened._

_You are who you are because no one can live your life._

_No drug or serum will make you anymore perfect._

**Hello! So, after a very long break, I am finally back. After this, I'll probably have another long break, so don't expect an update for a while. I was criticized a lot for apologizing about my stories so I won't, but I will say sorry for being away so long. I wrote this in mind of using the title "Selfish" but I felt that I had been doing too many character studies and was in the mood for an AU, so here we have "Serum". **

**If you haven't already known, I've really been into K-Pop, so I was able to draw some ideas from those influences. I got into the band U-Kiss, so I hope that if you like K-Pop and you haven't heard of them, that you should go and check it out! **

**Again, I hope that everyone is having an amazing summer and I'll see you guys later when I update. Don't expect frequent updates, but thank you for everyone who has been keeping up with my stories. I'm really grateful.**

**I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	20. Time

Time:

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock._ Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. How long has it been? How long has it been since the last thing you can remember? How long?

It's dark. The air is stagnant and barely breathable. Your body is weak from exhaustion and abuse. You're tired. It's been too long and you are at the breaking point. It seems that there is no going back.

_I have to go._

No, you can't die here. You still have so much left to do. You finally have a family to return to, friends to greet your return with hugs and amiable smiles. People actually want you. People actually need you.

_Stop!_

You don't want to think about those people anymore. You don't want to think about Percy, who only looks at you with blank eyes and confused recognition, as if he knows you but his mind refuses to let him remember. You can't remember the last thing you told him and the last time you saw him. Has it really been that long since he found you and Bianca in that school? Has it really been that long since everything you once knew shattered to the ground?

You don't want to think anymore. Not of Hazel or Frank, of Annabeth and Grover. It's silly to think that they'll have time to rescue you, the mere son of Hades compared to saving the world with the chosen seven. It's silly to selfishly want them to come after you knowing that you're just a trap and that if they do, all of them may not make it out alive.

_Don't worry._

There hasn't been much change. Your seeds that you stole from Persephone's garden slowly deplete, one by one, counting down each day until your death. You're trapped in a trance, everything blurring into nothingness until the only thing your body has left to do is breathe and survive for one more day.

It won't be enough, you know that. Even if they reach to you in time, they will still have to battle those bumbling buffoons meant to destroy Dionysus (Bacchus as the warrior-like Romans would call him). Despite their looks, they possess more power than any single demigod, and you're not entirely sure Mr. D (or for the Romans, would it be Mr. B, you wonder momentarily because you have all the time in the world before you die) will be willing to offer his strength to the likes of the lowly demigods.

_When will you come home?_

You think that over and over, tossing and mulling over the words in your head. Home was nowhere, home was everywhere. It was the Underworld, reeking with turmoil and strife, but full of dead spirits with many interesting stories to tell. It was Camp Half-blood, laden with loads of demigods each trying their hardest to survive and to ensure the safety of their loved ones. It wasn't Camp Jupiter, but you know that Hazel always reminds you of that feeling of returning to a place that wants and needs you.

Maybe when you have time. Maybe when you get out of the self-inflicted coma. Maybe when you are rescued will you return home. If you have enough time that is. And there is not doubt in your mind that there probably won't be any leftover.

_Soon._

You hate when people break promises. But you have broken your share enough times over to know that promises are fragile and that they are so easy to break. Each promise shatters like broken glass and cuts into you as if the shards have dug into your skin. So you don't promise yourself that they will come save you. You don't promise yourself that you will return alive and unscathed. You don't promise yourself that you can forget that torture below the depths of Tartarus. No, you can't promise yourself anything.

There is hope. It comes to you in the form of dreams filled with tales of victory and suspense, each starring some of the seven and you pray to all the gods that they succeed in their quest. But every dream leaves you with a feeling of worry and emptiness because you know that even if they get to you in time, there won't be any time left.

_Promise?_

For the time being, you try not to relive those horrible nightmares that will haunt you for the rest of your life. You try to sink your conscious into a numb state, desperately trying to find that peaceful and calm state of mind. You slowly lose focus of everything but breathing, but trying to live with the last remaining bit of strength you possess.

It's not enough though. Even if you've shut off every system in your body, your mind runs active, stuck in its haze, but flittering with scenes and flashes of memories that should have been forgotten. With only the thoughts of survival in your head, your mind is allowed to wander, momentarily to different unbidden thoughts until you forget everything once again. With your body shut down, your mind has nothing to occupy itself as it tries to maintain life.

_... I promise._

You could be immortal and the time that remains for you would never end. Your clock would continue to tick, each hand slowly moving along without stop. Every repetitive motion would continue forever and ever. But you're not immortal. Your clock runs on a battery called Fate and once the line is cut, your clock stops. Once your lungs pull in one last breath, and the rhythm of your heart slows to nothing, your clock stops. You, forever frozen in time, forever stuck in death will not have any time to say goodbye.

So maybe the fear that Percy and the others will not make it in time stops you from over-hoping, but your trust in Percy Jackson transcends the own concept of time and space. If Percy could defeat Kronos, Titan on time, then he can definitely beat the clock.

You don't want to be stuck in time, frozen forever as a spirit of once was. So for now, you wait and hope that those babbling bimbos above you don't realize how little time they have left before they are returned to Tartarus. Then soon, time will continue once again.

**Ah… Gomenesai. Mianhae. Lo siento. Aish… Sorry. So, as you can tell, I haven't updated in a very long time. Life is busy and unfortunately motivation is weak. Please, don't expect many updates. At the most, probably once or twice a year. Thank you for those who reviewed and subscribed. It really means a lot because I don't have that much confidence in my skills. Unfortunately, I wrote this in an hour as a need to update, but I still haven't found good inspiration. What type of oneshot should I write next? Humor? Angst? AU? Tell me, please! Anyways, I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


	21. Utopia

Utopia:

It's dark. So, so dark. _Is this death?_

There's a faint burning in the back of his head, the slight pounding in his temples that threatens to beat his brain like a million drums in perfect unison. Sounds are faded, gurgled underneath a hazy layer. Maybe it's silent and the sounds he's hearing are only the blood rushing through his skull.

There's a gasp, a strangled breath. It takes him a moment to realize that the gasp is his, that his breathing has slowed, and the fuzziness of his surroundings grows worse as the darkness closes in. His body feels too heavy for the emaciated condition he knows he is in. His eyelids refuse to open fully, his eyes lazily trying to focus against a haze that doesn't exist. For a moment, he wonders why he bothers fighting to stay awake in the dank atmosphere. And then darkness takes him.

When he awakes, he doesn't open his eyes, but for some reason, he feels energized. There is a thrum of energy in the air, pulsing through his body, and he breathes in. The air is fresh and clean. The coldness that had caressed his skin before seems to have become an embracing warm hug and the pounding in his head has settled to a dull ache that allows him room to breathe evenly. He opens his eyes.

This isn't the same place. This isn't the prison he was entrapped in. This isn't the torture cell that left his weak and helpless. This is something else. This is the opposite. This is paradise.

When he opens his eyes, a dim light greets him. It's not blindingly bright like the fluorescent streams of flashlights, but the soothing light of a candle, burning warmly and brightly. The ground is soft, covered in flowers and grass. Butterflies float gently amongst the wind, floating from flower to flower. Large trees wave in the air, foliage creating shade and swaying in the breeze. The wind that runs across the flowers bends them slightly, and Nico can almost imagine the _anemoi_ running their wispy hands over the tops as they sprint through the field.

There's something buzzing within him. Unlike the ringing of the dead that is a constant presence in his ears, there's a different type of dull thrum. It sounds like a million heartbeats thudding softly and soothingly, aligning with the pitter-patter of his. _It's life, _he realizes. The vitality of this place almost takes his breath away but that would be silly because only death would be so cruel. Instead, it seems to fill him up with air, as if he had been suffocating for a long time and this was his reprieve.

The soft sounds that aren't ear shattering, nor whispering fill his ears. It's sweet laughter that sounds familiar. It's joined by more quiet voices, which he strains lightly to hear. He can almost faintly hear it. The wonderfully familiar voice that calls his name in the distance, he can almost hear it. It floats down amongst the wind, and he can pick up the slightest strains of the sound. _Is that…?_

Nico staggers slightly to sit up, his excitement consuming him. In the distance, he can almost make out a figure just a little ways off. The figure reminds him of something, but he cannot clearly make it out. His body, brimming with wonder, moves forward. As he gets closer, the figure starts to take shape. Small and dark-skinned, hair neatly braided, definitely feminine. _Could it be?_

Suddenly, something crashes within him. With a hitching gasp, he breaks into a run, not even caring that the flowers bend away in fright at his strides. _It is her_. "Bianca!" he cries out, the sound shattering the peaceful atmosphere. He keeps running, faster and faster. As the figure continues to clear into a more distinct person, his heart beats faster and faster, out-pacing the thrum of life that he had felt once before. The wind that once had caressed him flies up in a frenzy, pushing wildly against him as his speed increases as if telling him, _Stop, you can't go any further_.

He's almost there. He's so close. It's definitely Bianca, he's that close. But something in him warns him. _Bianca is dead and resurrected,_ it yells out. _ That cannot be her._ But the sound of her voice, loving and soft beckons him closer until he can see her clearly, the fuzziness and haze around her fading to nothing.

At the last stretch, he can see her. With one quick move, he envelops her in his arms like he would have as a child. He can feel her arms slowly move to wrap around him, a loving embrace that almost makes him choke on tears. But before her arms fully wrap around him, she begins to fade in a haze, disappearing like the evanescent mist in a burst of petals and soft light, until his arms close around himself as if she never had been there. He collapses to the ground, holding his tears in and trying to keep the memory of her hug just for a little longer before it faded like her.

There's an aching pain within him now and the energy he had been feeling begins to drain from him, until only emptiness remains. He sighs. He is so tired. There's a light tap on his back. He turns around and there is Percy, gently holding out his hand. In the back, he can see the figure of Annabeth. Even further down, there's more and more people, rows of demigods that he met and found camaraderie with. In the distance, the furthest person he can see, is a women dressed in all black, wearing a veil. The pooling rush of emotions he feels tells him he knows the women, tells him that this person is special to him. _Mama._

Nico grabs Percy's hand and Percy pulls him up. But before Nico is fully up and can let go of his hand, Percy begins to fade away like Bianca, in a fluttering wind of petals and light, until the only thing Nico can see of Percy is the last look on his face. It's disappointment from what can he see. Percy's face engraved in his mind with eyes slightly drawn down and mouth frozen into a straight line, not a smile's curve or a frown's bend. He lifts his hand and starts moving forward towards that figure in the distance. He's almost to Annabeth who smiles gently at him at first. Her face changes though as he passes her and she begins to be blown away in the wind as well. His walk gets faster.

Every person he passes seems to smile at him before being fading away, looks of anger and disappointment evident in their eyes. For every person that fades away, he starts to run faster and faster, hoping to outpace the disappearance of people. It's a swirl of lovely petals and soothing light, but everyone is disappearing, everyone is going away and he knows it is because of him. But he keeps running, hoping to feel her hug one last time.

Finally, he's almost there. He throws himself at her, wrapping his arms around her, and then chokes back sobbing gasps as she vanishes with the wind, into nothing more than petals and light. He inhales loudly, tears threatening to burst through. This isn't paradise. This isn't a utopia. Not while he is here.

Suddenly, the beautiful surroundings around him begin to morph. The air around him grows heavy with humidity, heat pressing down on top of him, until he feels like he is suffocating. The soft bright light is streaked through his black, as darkness threatens to overtake such simple beauty. The flowers around him begin to decay, wilting and falling to the ground, the colors fading to blacks and browns, finally collapsing into dust. The gentle wind blows harshly, dragging any heat away, leaving his skin cold and creating an awful whistling sound that sounds like the bells of death to his ears. Everything once living fades into nothingness and the only thing left is the eerie darkness and himself.

And then there's a startled gasp, and he awakes. He's in the same place once again, suffering through for another day. His dreams grant him a slight reprieve but he remembers why he doesn't like to dream anymore.

People like him didn't deserve utopia.

**So… it's been a while since I last wrote. Like, a while a while. I really won't delve into excuses aside from major writer's block. But thank you guys for liking and favoriting my story. Comments are always appreciated because it gives me motivation to write. I've been apologizing for my stories, and this one is a bit messy, so I'm sorry for anything that's wrong with it. Again, I won't promise to update soon, because I'm likely to have another hiatus right after this, but I promise I'll get all the way to the last letter. Thank you again for liking my writings. I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan. **


	22. Veritas

**Veritas:**

It's the last taste of defeat that sours his tongue as he fades slowly away into the blackness. The heavy pain aching in his chest, the wet blood that seeps out like a river from his wound, and the tingling ringing of death in his ears takes him away before even the wails of his comrades can be heard.

_Stop. Rewind. Redo._

It's dark. It's kind of nice, he thinks, lost in the final dregs of sleep. The door bursts open and daylight filters into the cabin. "Nico, wake up!" He groans, turns over, and draws the blankets over his head.

The blankets are pulled off his body and a heavy weight settles on him. "Nico, aren't you going to greet your favorite sister?" the voice again demands, happiness lacing its tone. He mumbles back, "Hazel's my favorite sister", and is abruptly awoken with a push off the bed.

"Geez Bianca, what was that for?" Nico mutters good-naturedly as he staggers to a standing position so he can give her a hug. It's weird, he thinks, to see his older sister again. It's been four years since she joined the Hunters and came back from the quest she went on with Percy Jackson. Percy, he hopes, is still alive somewhere on the Argo going off to save the world again.

"The Hunters are at Camp Half-blood and you aren't happy to see your older sister?" she says innocently, and his only response is to push her in the shoulder and blearily rub his eyes.

"I see you every now and then. One hour of extra sleep wouldn't mean I was missing much."

Bianca smiles at him. She leans up to ruffle his hair and murmurs, "You've gotten so tall." He embraces her because he really did miss her and he wants to let this moment last since he doesn't know when he will get another one.

"When are the Hunters leaving?" He doesn't want to know the answer, but he hopes for the best.

"I'm here for the whole summer, Nico! With the seven on their journey, Lady Artemis needs some time off, so she let us go anywhere we want. Some of the girls are staying with the group to continue hunting, but others are going back to visit. I chose Camp Half-blood."

"You're kidding, right?" Nico says disbelievingly. She shakes her head. Nico's mouth starts to form a wide smile, his eyes lighting up, his olive color skin almost seeming to glow in the midday sun.

"Well then. Nico, get dressed immediately," Bianca commands, her voice authoritative, just like how he remembered she was those years ago. "Obey your older sister," she adds childishly and Nico remembers that she's immortal and hasn't aged since that time.

"Well, technically, I'm the older sibling physical-" and he stops when she bops him in the head and rolls her eyes. He grins and runs off to get a shower before the bathhouses fill with Ares kids after their afternoon spar. Okay… so he admits that he should wake up earlier since sleeping till noon wasn't exactly healthy. He's surprised that the Hermes cabin hasn't pulled any pranks on him yet. He's still one of the few campers that has not been claimed and although he thinks it's unfair, he didn't have much role to play in the Titan War and no other hint at his heritage besides the mysterious Stygian Iron sword that was given to him by a strange looking business man.

Bianca approaches him, her bow slung across her back dressed in the traditional silver parka, standard of the Hunters. With a nod, both take off into the forest, racing to see who can reach "their" spot the fastest. He bursts through the foliage, a little worst for wear, bright orange shirt a little bit dirtier than when he had picked it off the floor. Bianca is already sitting there, not even ruffled and he mentally curses Hunter agility and training. He joins her, plopping down ungracefully, sprawling growing limbs on the ground.

"How's Hazel doing?" Bianca questions, curious about the newest addition to their family. All Nico has told her about the mysterious Hazel was that an Iris message had opened up randomly while he was in the bathroom and a young looking African-American girl had popped up in the image looking confused and with a note saying to contact Nico di Angelo at Camp Half-blood. It took a few more messages before they realized they were siblings on their gods' side.

"She's doing fine from when I last heard. She messaged me some months ago from Camp Jupiter, wherever that is, and says she even got a boyfriend! Can you believe that? My thirteen year old little sister has a boyfriend before even I do!" Nico's hands wave as talk, emoting his words with motions that Bianca only understands because she uses them herself.

Bianca chuckles and ruffles his hair. "Maybe if you got a haircut you'd get more boys to like you." Nico pushes her hand away and gives her a hard glare, eyes burning with rage, before it melts into a soft smile. "And how is it without boys Miss Forever Young?"

She hugs him and says quietly, "I missed you more than I would miss any boy." And Nico understands. He isn't bitter anymore about Bianca abandoning him to join the hunt. She's alive now and she's with him and that's always more than what he can ask for from the gods.

"How's Percy?" she finally ventures to ask, hesitant about the question that she knows Nico still tenses over. Nico sighs, reluctant to answer, always looking for ways out to deny his feelings. She knows it's hard. The 1940's were not a time period to have feelings for another man. But the current world is much more accepting and Bianca would kill anyone who dared hurt Nico for his sexuality. She can hardly remember her childhood and so she holds on to Nico as her lifeline to the mortal world.

"Fine," he curtly replies, miserable looking and Bianca thinks it looks wrong on her happy-go-lucky little brother. Nico is young and he doesn't deserve a lot that has happened to him and she can't say how proud she is that he's still smiling. She doesn't regret joining the Hunters, but she does regret leaving Nico behind to face the world alone. And she shudders to think what will happen when Nico grows up, gets old, and dies. Who would have thought that her little brother would enter the Underworld before her?

They talk until the sun sets. "Bianca, do you wonder who our father is?" She doesn't but she humors him anyways. "Sometimes Nico. Why?" He looks her straight in the eyes and for a moment, she thinks she sees a glint of madness, or manic genius, she can't decide, glittering in his eyes. For a moment, she fears him. But it's her little brother and she wouldn't do anything in the world to hate or hurt him.

"I'm 14, Bianca. He has to claim me. Why hasn't he claimed me yet?" He looks at her, hurt behind wide eyes but more confused than wounded. "I want to do something more than just practice swords and shoot arrows that don't hit the target" (she snorts slightly at the image especially since her arrows always hit the target, but that's Artemis's gift so she probably shouldn't laugh). He sighs but his eyes are bright and relaxed. Everything is alright again.

When Nico falls back asleep, he can hear faint phantom whispers, some calling his name and he wants to say don't cry but in his dreams, he's too weak and there's something salty in his mouth that dribbles down the side of his mouth that garbles his speech.

_Please don't cry._

It takes almost till the end of the summer before Nico is granted the chance to go on a quest. Bianca volunteers to go with him, scared that Nico hasn't gained mastery of powers that lay dormant underneath him. Their quest is to meet up with the daughter of Bellona, the praetor of the Roman camp that Hazel lives at. From there, they must find the Diocletian staff. Nico doesn't understand why he was chosen for this quest as he doesn't have power over the dead, something which makes him think Chiron knows more than he lets on, although sometimes he thinks he can hear the souls of the dead being judged but dismisses the sounds as hallucinations.

It takes a lot of brainpower, three lost Mythomagic cards, and some dubious methods of gaining transportation before they figure out where to find Diocletian's staff which seems to have moved from its original position in Split, Croatia, to some obscene location in Florida where there are parties every street corner they turn. Getting the staff, they find out, is not as easy as they thought it would be.

On one hand, the bodyguard that blocks the entrance to the club where the staff is rumored to be appears to really dislike both Bianca and Reyna for some unknown reason, although he takes a peculiar interest to Nico. He feels uncomfortable as he alone is ushered into the club without the safety net of his sister and a daughter of war. Faintly, he hears his sister and the praetor arguing with the man, and he thinks he hears a blow of metal on metal. He grips his sword tighter and takes a deep breath as he is brought to a man.

The man turns and he immediately feels threatened, as if the man was reading all his secrets. However, when he is asked to admit his crush (was that really all he wanted?), he doesn't panic, doesn't try to run. He holds his ground and grinds out the answer. The man seems satisfied but also disappointed, as if he had expected a fight. Nico doesn't care because the only person that knows is Bianca and he knows she will love him anyways. Nico wins the staff from Eros.

Yet, once his hand grips the staff, he feels it try to draw his soul into it and he gasps as his knees give out, his vision starts to blur, and he only has a moment of confusion before Bianca catches him and he blacks out, his fingers still wrapped around the staff.

When he wakes up, Bianca is peering worriedly at him. "Nico, I think I know who our father is." He only has a few moments to process that before he's out again, the staff in his hand unable to be pried from his hands.

"Hades, god of the Underworld" he breathes out when he finally gains enough strength to remain conscious and to let go of the staff. Bianca nods, eyes reverent but guarded as well to hide her shock. "The only Mythomagic figure I don't have."

The staff lies harmlessly next to him, the others wary of touching something that could cause a Son of Hades to pass out. Nico tentatively grips the staff and is surprised. He can't feel his soul being drawn into the staff and he realizes that the staff needs him to know who he is for it to work.

Bianca kisses him goodnight before he falls asleep. In his dreams, he is holding the Diocletian staff and his Stygian Iron sword. They clatter to the ground and then pain. Mind-numbing pain. He screams. And screams. Nico drops to his knees in the dream and he knows he's a goner. They crying sounds are back again, and this time he feels the tears splatter on his face. He struggles, trying to awaken from the nightmare.

In the morning, Bianca finds him still asleep, dark circles under his eyes. "Hey, Nico. I have to go now. I'm going to miss you. Be good okay?" And then she's gone, missing from his life again. He sighs.

He waves Diocletian's staff a bit and sees the jewel at the top turn a strange color and a ghostly apparition of himself appears. Nico jumps back in shock an unsheathes his sword. "Nico," his ghost says, "it's time to go back to the real world."

"This is the real world," Nico replies, confused. The apparition smiles back at him pityingly and all of a sudden, Nico isn't in the Hermes cabin anymore but is standing with the ghost looking at the Hunters camp. "What are you trying to show me?"

The ghost only says "Bianca is dead." Nico snaps. "She is not dead! She was with me the entire summer! I saw her right before you appeared." But he looks around and Bianca is not there. He feels panicked. "Where is she?"

"I'm sorry, Nico" the ghost says and now it looks more like Bianca than Nico and Nico just wants things to go back to normal. "It's time to go back."

Everything is dark again. He sees glimpses of people crying and he wonders if he knows them. He looks again and he _understands_. Jason, Hazel, Frank, Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Percy are crying over him. But why?

Then his eyes flicker open and all he feels is pain. He groans and spits out blood. The others begin to smile. Nico they cry out. "What happened?" he rasps, throat still sore, unable to really move.

They tell him he saved them. They thought he was dead. Why did he come back? Why did he risk his life? (They know it is because he is kinder than he makes himself out to be.) And before he falls back into blissful darkness, he whispers "I miss Bianca," and they understand.

**Back from hiatus only to enter another one soon after. I feel bad that I'm not able to update frequently. This story kind of sucks just because I didn't have a clear storyline for this. Basically, in this one-shot, Nico returns to the battlefield to help the Seven and gets badly hurt. While he is unconscious, he enters an alternate universe where Bianca is still alive. In a world where Bianca is still alive, Nico wouldn't have resurrected Hazel nor would he have gone with the crew of the Argo to the Doors of Death. It's sort of based off of Viria's drawings, which I thought were a good representation of Nico's and Bianca's relationship. **

**Similarly, yes, Nico still has a crush on Percy. He had a crush before Bianca died, so it's only reasonable he still has a crush. Some people don't think it's right that Nico is gay but I don't see the problem with that. Love is something that can't be controlled and when it is mutual, it is one of the most beautiful things ever. So, please, if you have problems with homosexuality or bisexuality or pansexuality or anything, please, don't continue reading. I'm glad Rick Riordan included that in the House of Hades and it was a subject I really wanted to write about.**

**Thanks for being patient. For those who have been with me since the beginning, it's been a blessing. Again, I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights and rewards go to Mr. Rick Riordan.**


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